#i think grass and tools should also be treated humanely

[expfcultragreen]

Need to see this dude in a friendly ufc match with that vegan i found recently, itd be like he was fighting his younger self.

This dude: *sees beautiful giant dragonfly, magnificent* "you could probably get some meaty steaks offa that thorax"

Me: ive just now written a fanfic in my head where a vegan chef piledrivers you or some shit, love the show

[queerforscience]

Summary: Unmasking Autism by Devon Price has a lot of good insights, but in my opinion could use more nuance about the harms experienced by early diagnosed autistics and autistics who can't mask.

I've been listening to the audiobook of Unmasking Autism by Devon Price. There's a lot of really good information in it and a lot that's really relatable as a late diagnosed, trans, fairly high masking autistic and I have a few criticisms of it:

It seems that Dr. Price falls into the common "grass is greener" pitfall. The book is focused on the harms of masking and the way that oppression forces many marginalized people to mask. It also discusses the way that this causes many marginalized people to not be recognized as autistic, which robs us of a valuable tool for understanding ourselves and our struggles. I felt that the way these very really harms were discussed sometimes minimized the also very real harms that come with being diagnosed as autistic as a child, especially for marginalized people. These discussions also didn't acknowledge the fact that some autistics cannot mask and experience specific harms because of that.

Similarly, I felt there were some missed chances to emphasize the internalized ableism component of the urge to distance ourselves from the label autism. This was framed in a discussion about how certain stereotypes about autism can make it more difficult to recognize and identify with autism within ourselves, but many of those stereotypes, like "the nonverbal toddler in bulky noise cancelling headphones at the grocery store, do represent some very real autistics who are also valuable human beings. This was addressed some later in the book than when this criticism first arose for me, but I think it's something that should have been more emphasized throughout. Similarly, there could have been more emphasis that people who do fit certain other labels also deserve to be treated better when when discussing the stigma that comes with some misdiagnoses autistic people commonly receive, such as personality disorders.

At least as far as I've gotten, there's a fair amount of discussion of eating disorders among autistic people, but this discussion has been strictly about restrictive eating disorders and primarily anorexia. It's fine to focus on that, but if you claim to be discussing eating disorders generally you also need to talk about bingeing. ARFID should also be included, especially if you're talking about autistics!

There's a lot of discussion about maladaptive drug use and substance use disorders among autistic people, but so far I feel there's been a lack of recognition that drug use can be adaptive as well.

So far, I think I would overall recommend the book. However, I do also worry about what people reading it without also having heard the perspectives of high support needs and/or low masking autistics may take away from it. Similarly, I also think people reading it should be sure to seek out the perspectives of people who do identify with BPD, NPD, schizophrenia, and other highly stigmatized disorders that autistic people are sometimes labelled with.

[space-blue]

may we know what is the crumbs 3 wip? 👀

Aha! It's the 3rd chapter of the fic A Trail Of Crumbs whose concept I adore but fell out of love with when I stumbled out of the Avatar fandom.

It follows Recom Miles Quaritch after the events of the film, lone survivor back on base and wrestling with the increasing dread brought about by a series of 'crumbs' he picks up on over time. RDA staff say and do weird things. The way he's treated seems odd. Ah, and his fucking custom watch. The tattoos they all have... Stuff doesn't really add up.

The goal of the fic was to explore the nature of the 'soul drives', how edited recom memories are, and the growing realisation that Miles isn't anywhere near his old human self, not any more than any other Marine with a similar background.

It was pure vibes of Blade Runner, artificial memories, created as a sentient tool unaware of their own artificiality beyond the obvious, etc.

In the end, I think I explored the concept better in this short comic in Mansk POV.

Chapter 3 crumbs is the incomplete conversation between Aslan and Miles, hinting at past Miles/Parker Selfridge. I stuck to dialogue only towards the end so it grows barebones, but I'll put what I have under the cut for the curious because I honestly don't think I'll finish this unless Avatar 3 makes me its bitch again.

'Why did you come back to Pandora?'

'Well, we landed in fanfare, as you can imagine.'

Yes, Miles can well imagine the media shit-storm so politely labelled fanfare. There's a part of him he's not particularly proud of that is glad his own death allowed him to skip this particular shitshow. He'd been, after all, the man in charge of operations at the time. Had pulled rank and everything. The media would have vivisected his career, his entire being. It's unlikely to have been much kinder to other RDA personal, returning with their tails between their legs.

'And in the middle of all this, my family...' Aslan gnaws on their lip, their faraway look snapping back to Miles with sudden intensity. 'We weren't really friends, you and I. You weren't one to hang out with the "science pukes", right? You'd know about my family if you had. I used to complain quite vocally whenever I got a comm from them. The old vent, you know. Anyway, let's say they were there, at the landing pad, waiting for me. In the middle of all that... fanfare.'

They look through the blinds, over the blighted landscape of concrete and metal, crawling with bots and shivering with heat and ship exhaust fumes.

'I signed up for the next mission over.'

Miles nods politely. He knows the type of family they're alluding to. He's met people who worked on the Mars terraforming program off world, because restoring Uganda's water table wasn't far enough of a getaway. Pandora's one of the furthest frontiers known to mankind. Different appeal to the science pukes, who generally arrive thrilled to go pull up grass, but dysfunctional families are universal, and to many RDA workers, the distance is a bonus.

He goes to say some platitude, that he understands, because really, he does. But Aslan cuts him off with a sharp hand gesture.

'Can we cut the crap, General? I mean Miles. You're not interested in my family, and you're keeping me away from the deeply fascinating samples I've come all the way here to put under a microscope, so let's just talk.'

Miles is struck by the sudden realisation that he's got no easy segway ready to start on the whole RDA conspiracy thing. He turns a few sentences over in his mind, growing discomfort flattening his ears to his skull. Should he threaten Aslan? Ask plainly? He's burning to cut the crap, as asked. But Aslan is also the one who'd gone to great pains to arrange a believable meeting between them, who'd seeded fear into his mind.

The manual had held no hint when he consulted it. The term soul drive had an asterix to an appendix that wasn't in the book.

'Something bothering you?'

Miles smiles tightly. 'You can tell?'

'You have a long way to go before you obtain a Na'vi poker face. I suggest you stay away from the Thursday games.'

To hell with it. It's not like he expects he'll make it past the court martial, the way things are going.

'Why do your people tattoo us?'

'You flatter me if you think me this involved, but that happens on the ship over, with a crew well out of my jurisdiction.'

A deflection. He'll be damned. 'I'd appreciate an answer,' he says, putting steel into his voice. 'Of the straight kind, too, if you can manage those.'

'A jab at my sexuality? Too easy. Is the tattooing what's bothering you? Really?' Aslan's smile is knowing, the light in their eyes dances with unwholesome mischief.

'Let's say that I've tried and failed to find a better starting point.'

'All right then. Let's do a short test. Answer my questions fast and truthfully.'

Miles relaxes. 'Sure.'

'Year of birth?'

'2104.'

'Do you have a son?'

'...Yes.'

'What was his mother's name?'

'Paz Socorro.'

'What year was she born?'

'I...'

'Am not sure?'

'I don't think we discussed it, but—'

'You had her file. She was one of yours, wasn't she? Surely you remember how old she was?'

'I think—'

But Aslan doesn't let him catch his breath. 'Who was Parker Selfridge to you?'

Miles sits straight, ears point to attention now. Will Aslan also reek of fear if he answers 'friend', no matter how much of an overstatement the word might feel? Heck, they asked for fast answers, so he says, 'He wasn't exactly my boss, but he was the Head suit in charge.'

'I need an honest answer,' they say, rasping a knuckle on the table.

Miles has his jaw hanging. What do they want from him?

'Do you recall leaning in his doorway?' Aslan continues, hardly slowing down. 'Poring over maps together?'

'Well, we...'

'Do you remember the way he laughed at your jokes? You leaned into the corny dad humour and he loved it. Do you remember your mug?'

'Yes.'

'Do you remember how you got it?'

'...Selfridge? Wasn't it Paz?'

'That's a question, so I'll take it as a no. Moving on to—'

'All right, all right. You've made your point.'

'What point do you think this is?'

'My memories are incomplete.'

'No, Miles.' Aslan sighs and sinks into their chair. 'Your memories are edited.'

It's somewhat depressing that of all the emotions he feels in that moment, surprise is not one of them

'Look at it this way. The machine scours your neural pathworks, and bounces memories. But it can't recreate the events that got you there, and it can't recreate what you blocked even from your own wakeful memory. Things you've forgotten, things you've hidden under too many layers, things you've trained to look away from.'

'So we're missing chunks?'

'Yes, all soul drives are inherently incomplete. That's why the technology isn't widespread. But that's not it. When you're in the machine, they can trigger memory chains. It helps map out... Look, it's hard to simplify, especially since it's not my specialty either, but they can snip out entire sections, like cauterizing a thought beyond surface level, or blot out all emotional reactions to a concept.'

'Are you saying... Do you actually mean the RDA edited the story of my life like a fucking home movie?'

They shrug. 'Yeah. That's the gist of it.'

'That in the contract I signed?'

'Of course not. Come on, colonel, you worked private long enough to have seen this coming. What? Do you think they'd give a fuck if you had issues with your situation?'

Miles rubs a shaky hand over his eyes, trying his best to remember the sound of Parker's laugh. 'Are you— Are you saying Selfridge and I were close—'

'Close is a good euphemism.'

'—and they erased so much of it, I freaked the shrink out by referring to him as a friend?'

Aslan tuts. 'Bad move.'

Miles gives them a sickly sweet smile. 'What a shame nobody warned me about the nature of this assessment!'

[meruz]

once again i am answering asks in a big compilation post. included is... gotham, patrick stump, tips about drawing backgrounds, tips about drawing in general, links to my faq, and infinity train

like.... the tv series? No... I’ve drawn dc comics fanart before, though. But it’s been years since I’ve been really into it. I like jumped ship like 10 years ago when the New 52 happened LOL.

AFJHDSLKGH I’m sorry I (probably) won’t do it again??

Actually full disclosure I have a truly cringe amount of p stump drawings/photo studies in my sketchbook right now LOL. He’s just fun to draw... hats, glasses, guitar, a good shape... but I don’t think I’ll rly post those until I can hide them in another big sketchbook pdf.. probably Jan 2022. Stay tuned........ (ominous) 

(ominous preview)

These are all sort of related to backgrounds/painting so I grouped them together even though they’re pretty much entirely separate questions.... ANYWAYS

a) How is it working as a BG artist? Is it hard? What show are you drawing for?

I think you’re the first person to ever ask me about my job! Being a background artist is great. It’s definitely labor intensive but I think that could describe pretty much any art job (If something were rote or easy to automate, you wouldn’t hire an artist to do it) and I hesitate to say whether its harder or easier than any other role in the animation pipeline. Plus, so much of what truly makes a job difficult varies from one production to the next, schedule, working environment, co-workers etc. But I will say that I think while BGs are generally a lot of work on the upfront, I think they’re subject to less scrutiny/revisions than something like character/props/effects design and you don’t have to pitch them to a room like boards. So I guess it’s good if you don’t like to talk to people? LOL

A lot of my previous projects + the show I’ve worked on the longest aren’t public yet so I can’t talk about em (but I assure you if/when the news does break I won’t shut up about it). But I’m currently working on Archer Season 12 LOL. I’m like 90% sure I’m allowed to say that.

b) ~~~THANK YOU!! ~~~

c) What exactly do you like to draw most [in a background]?

@kaitomiury​ Lots of stuff! I really like to draw clutter! Because it’s a great opportunity for environmental storytelling and also you can be kind of messy with it because the sheer mass will supersede any details LOL. 

I like to draw clouds... I like to draw grass but not trees lol,,, I like to draw anything that sells perspective really easily like tiled floors and ceilings, shelves, lamp posts on a street etc.

d) Do you have any tips on how to paint (observational)?

god there’s so much to say. painting is really a whole ass discipline like someone can paint their whole life and still discover new things about it. I guess if you’re really just starting out my best advice is that habit is more important than product. especially with traditional plein air painting, I find that the procedure of going outside and setting up your paints is almost harder than the actual painting. There’s a lot of artists who say “I want to do plein air sometime!!” and then never actually get around to doing it. A lot of people just end up working from google streetview or photos on their computer.

But going outside to paint is a really good challenge because it forces you to make and commit to lighting and composition decisions really quickly. And to work through your mistakes instead of against them via undo button.

My last tip is to check out James Gurney’s youtube channel because hes probably the best and most consistent resource on observational painting out there rn. There’s lots other artists doing the same thing (off the top of my head I know a lot of the Warrior Painters group has people regularly posting plein air stuff and lightbox expo had a Jesse Schmidt lecture abt it last year) but Gurney’s probably the most prolific poster and one of the best at explaining the more technical stuff - his books are great too.

e) Do you have tips for drawing cleanly on heavypaint?

@marigoldfool​ UMM LOL I LIKE ONLY USE THE FILL TOOL so maybe use the fill tool? Fill and rectangle are good for edge control as opposed to the rest of the heavy paint tools which can get sort of muddles. And also I use a stylus so maybe if you’re using your finger, find a stylus that works with your device instead. That’s all I’ve got, frankly I don’t think my drawings are particularly clean lol.

f) Tips on improving backgrounds/scenes making them more dynamic practicing etc?

Ive given some tips about backgrounds/scenes before so I’m not gonna re-tread those but here’s another thing that might be helpful...

I think a good way to approach backgrounds is to think of the specific story or even mood you want to convey with the background first. Thinking “I just need to put something behind this character” is going to lead you to drawing like... a green screen tourist photo backdrop. But if you think “I need this bg to make the characters feel small” or “I need this bg to make the world feel colorful” then it gives you requirements and cues to work off of.

If I know a character needs to feel overwhelmed and small, then I know I need to create environment elements that will cage them in and corner them. If a character needs to feel triumphant/on top of the world then I know I need to let the environment open up around them. etc. If I know my focal point/ where I want to draw attention, I can build the background around that.

Also, backgrounds like figure compositions will have focal points of their own and you can draw attention to it/ the relationship the characters have with the bg element via scale or directionality or color, any number of cues. I think of it almost as a second/third character in a scene.

Not every composition is gonna have something so obvious like this but it helps me to think about these because then the characters feel connected and integrated with the environment.

Some more general art questions

a) Do you have any process/tips to start drawing character/bodies/heads?

I tried to kind of draw something to answer this but honestly this is difficult for me to answer because I don’t think I’m that great at drawing characters LOL. Ok, I think I have two tips.

1) flip your canvas often. A lot about what makes human bodies look correct and believable is symmetry and balance. Even if someone has asymmetrical features, the body will often pull and push in a way to counterbalance it. we often have inherent biases to one side or another like dominant hands dominant eyes etc. you know how right-handed artists will often favor drawing characters facing 45 degrees facing (the artist’s) left? that’s part of it. so viewing your drawing flipped even just to evaluate it helps compensate for that bias and makes you more aware of balance.

2) draw the whole figure often. I feel like a lot of beginner artists (myself included for a long time) defer to just drawing headshots or busts because it’s easier, you dont have to think about posing limbs etc. But drawing a full body allows you to better gauge proportion, perspective, body language, everything that makes a character look believable and grounded.

Like if you (me) have that issue where you draw the head too big and then have to resize it to fit the proportions of the rest of the body, it’s probably because you (I) drew the head first and are treating the body as an afterthought/attachment. Sketching out the whole figure first or even just quick drawing guides for it will help you think of it more holistically. I learned this figure drawing in charcoal at art school LOL.

oh. third mini tip - try to draw people from life often! its the best study. if you can get into a figure drawing/nude drawing class EVEN BETTER and if you have a local college/art space/museum that hosts those for free TREASURE IT AND TAKE ADVANTAGE OF IT, that’s a huge boon that a lot of artists (me again) wish they had. though if youre not so lucky and youre sitting in a park trying to creeper draw people and they keep moving.. don’t let that stop you! that’s good practice because it’s forcing you to work fast to get the important stuff down LOL. its a challenge!

b) I’ve been pretty out of energy and have had no inspiration to draw but I have the desire to. Any advice?

Dude, take a walk or something.... Or a nap? Low energy is going to effect everything else so you gotta hit that problem at its source.

If you’re looking for inspiration though, I’d recommend stuff like watching a movie, reading a book, playing video games etc. Fill up your idea bank with content and then give yourself time/space to gestate it into new concepts. Sometimes looking at other art works but sometimes it can work against you because it’s too close. 

Also something that helps me is remembering that art doesn’t always have to be groundbreaking... like it’s okay to make something shitty and stupid that you don’t post online and only show to your friend. That’s all part of the process imo. If you want to hit a home run you gotta warm up first, right? Sports.

I should probably compile everytime i give tips on stuff like this but that’s getting dangerously close to being a social media artist who makes stupid boiled down art tutorials for clout which is the last thing i want to be... the thing I want to stress is that art is a whole visual language and there are widely agreed upon rules and customs but they exist in large part to be broken. Like there's an infinite number of ways to reach an infinite number of solutions and that’s actually what makes it really cool and personal for both the artist and the viewer. So when you make work you like or you find someone else’s work you like, take a step back and ask yourself what about it speaks for you, what about it works for you, what makes it effective, how to recreate that effect and how to break that effect completely, etc. And have a good time with it or else what’s the point.

for the first 2, I direct you to my FAQ

For the last one, I don’t actually believe I’ve ever addressed artwork as insp for stories/rp but I’ll say here and now yeah go ahead! As long as you’re not making profit or taking credit for my work then I’m normally ok with it. Especially anything thats private and purely recreational, that’s generally 100% green light go. I only ask that if you post it anywhere public that you please credit me.

(and I reserve the right to ask you to take it down if I see it and don’t approve of it’s use but I think that case is pretty rare.)

a) @lemuelzero101 Thank you!!! I haven’t played Life is Strange but actually  that series’ vis dev artist Edouard Caplain is one of my bigger art inspirations lately so that’s a really high compliment lol. And yeah I hope we get 5-8 too...!

b) Thank you for sticking around! I’ve been thinking about Digimon and Infinity Train in tandem lately, actually. They’re a little similar? Enter a dangerous alternate world and have wacky adventures with monsters/inanimate objects that have weird powers... there’s like weird engineers and mechanisms behind the scenes... also frontier literally starts with them getting on a train. Anyways if anyone else followed me for digimon... maybe you’d like Infinity Train? LOL

c) @king-wens-king I’M GLAD MY ART JUST HAS PINOY VIBES LOL I hope you are having a good day too :^)

a, b, c, d) yessss my Watch Infinity Train agenda is working....

e) aw thank you!! i think you should watch infinity train :)

[dylanobrienisbatman]

The main problem with the whole mal vs the darkling thing in regards to being possessive (or really when it comes to any of their traits) is the fact that throughout, the darkling is clearly framed as the villain and his actions reflect that, whereas Mal as supposed to be the good guy and best romantic partner for Alina, and yet he has all these awful character traits and tendencies. So its less about how awful the Bad Guy is (since he's supposed to be), and more about how awful the person that we're supposed to believe is the best option for Alina is. I don't ship either, just my two cents.

Okay well... two things. First, your comment about "its less about how awful the bad guy is, since he's supposed to be", takes every comment I've made about Darkles out of context, which seems fitting since everything Darklina's spout about Mal is out of context. Him being the Bad Guy is fine, and if you like him AS A VILLAIN, and acknowledge all the bad shit he does, then my posts aren't for you. I think he's a very interesting villain, and a lot of the terrible shit he does that I have to keep making posts about make him a good villain, the problem is when the terrible shit the "Bad Guy" does is romanticized and viewed as the reasons why Alina SHOULD have picked him. So, don't assume everyone gets that "hes supposed to be awful". The point my post was making is that Darklina's love to call Mal possessive, but then turn around and act like Darkles literally enslaving her in somehow sexy and romantic. It's fucking not, and it's transparent as hell that y'all romanticize and sexualize the actually possessive character, and then project false character traits onto Mal. It's so transparent, it's almost funny.

But, more importantly, to your second, very wrong point, I wonder how much of the narrative about Mal having "awful character traits and tendencies" is actually a commentary on Mal as a character, or is it just Darklina's lying about things Mal has done and everyone accepting that misinterpretation as canon. Because, if were making a list...

Fuck boy - False! Mal was not a fuck boy! He was an attractive teenager who hooked up with consenting girls his age when he could, and he was not in a relationship during that time. Alina had never told him how she felt, so he is not beholden to her. (Also, nobody seems to have an issue with the fact that Darkles hooked up with Zoya in the show, that doesn't make HIM a fuckboy... interesting) (also also, nobody seems to discuss Darkles literally sexually assaulting Alina, and lying and manipulating her to get her to be physically intimate with him so he can use her... double interesting).

Slut Shames Alina - FALSE! The ever favourite callout line from Darklina's "He's all over you" isn't him slut shaming her. First, he has no idea what their relationship is like at that point, but more importantly, he is making an observation of her status in the little palace and how she has become his tool. He has dressed her up in his colors, made her put on a show for his benefit, and has created a situation where Alina appears to be his. Mal is noting that after months of searching for her, believing she was being hurt, tortured, or worse, when he arrives to save her, she looks like the Darkling's pet. (and, even if he WAS angry because he perceived them to be romantically involved, boy just spent months fighting for his life, lost multiple friends, and almost died to find her, all while coming to the realisation that he was in love with her, and then he shows up, after not hearing from her for months... I'd be pissed as hell too.) Important Note: He even acknowledges that what he said was wrong and tries to apologise, before Alina tells him that he was right. (Shadow and Bone, pg. 286). He also then apologizes, completely unprompted, for what he said. (Shadow and Bone, pg. 297).

Fat Shames Alina - False! This one is particularly laughable to me, because its one of the Darklina arguments that falls apart the second you actually read the scene. They are running for their lives in the forest, and Mal has to hunt and gather to feed them. He is noting that Alina's appetite has increased since he last saw her, and he makes a joke (ya know, how you do with friends) about how it would be easier to keep her fed if she still had her more meager appetite from before. He makes no comment on her weight, or her size, and he is not actually commenting on her appetite in a negative way, he is just acknowledging that it's a lot more work for him now that she eats more. Right before he says the line, the quote even proves that he isn't shaming her or thinking badly of her: "With a bemused expression, he watched as I gobbled down my portion and then sighed, still hungry". He is noting a change in her, and complaining that its made more work for him. If you think thats the same as fat shaming, well... thats a you problem.

Hates Alina's Powers - FALSE!!!! How to begin... do we talk about it was Mal's idea to hunt the stag in S&B, because he knew she needed it to be more powerful so she could stop the darkling? Do we talk about how he vowed to find the firebird for her, even though he was terrified of what all that power would do to her? Do we talk about how he literally died so she could achieve the power she needed to save the world? Or maybe we could talk about how he believed in her power more than anyone else, like when everyone was making bets about her abilities with the Cut and he knew she'd go further and better than anyone else expected her too, or when he tells her that he was never afraid of her powers, only what seeking all that power would do to her (which is literally the theme of the books, that power corrupts and seeking unmatched power can destroy you)? Mal being afraid of what is going to happen to Alina, being protective of her and worrying over her, is not the same as him hating her powers. He exists to help remind Alina of the themes of the story, and to guide her into maintaining her humanity.

Abusive - ... Do I even need to explain this one? Must I deign an explanation as to why this favourite Darklina lie is so fucking stupid, and also totally hypocrisy? No? Because we all know Darkles is actually the abusive one and they're trying to project their own shit onto Mal to further their abuse apologist agenda? Cool. Moving on.

Possessive of Alina - False! Throughout the entire series, Mal is quite literally the opposite of possessive, but yall just cant read. Not only does he quite literally step out of the way and allow Nikolai to court Alina without argument, which is the most direct example of him not being possessive, he also spends two full books believing, and repeatedly saying over and over and over, that they can't be together because he is not good enough for her. Mal believes, fully, that Alina deserves more than him, better than him, because he's just a tracker and a soldier, just a regular man with nothing to offer her but his love and his protection, and she is a Saint and should be a Queen. Possessiveness is the wish to own and control someone, it is literally the opposite of Mal believing that he's not good enough and doing everything he can to ensure that Alina achieves everything and gets everything he believes she is owed. A possessive character would not tell her to tell him to leave because he has nothing he can offer her, no title or land or country or crown. A possessive character would not promise to be the blade in her hand, because he believed he had nothing but the blood he could spill to offer her.

Angry - True! Yeah, omg, you caught us, Mal is ANGRY! Heaven forbid a teenager who is traumatized beyond belief and has to give up everything in his life, his position in the military (he deserted for her), his friends and the job he loved (Mikhail and Dubrov died for him, and he can't be a tracker in the army... because he deserted... for Alina), and, most importantly, he has to give up Alina (she should be Queen, he believes, and he has to give up the future he imagined with the girl he loves, who he was pretty sure loved him back, because she's a saint and queen and he's just a man), and more, is ANGRY. He has to be the one to find the amplifiers that he knows will end up hurting her, because thats what she needs to save the world. He has to sit by while Nikolai treats him like the dirt on his shoe and tries to woo Alina for his own personal gain (because Nikoalai did not love Alina. Maybe he came to care for her, but he proposed and spent all of S&S trying to get her to marry him when it was obvious they were not in love. He straight up says its so that the next King of Ravka can be married to the Sun Summoner. It's a power grab.) and he can't do anything about it. So yeah, Mal is angry. And yeah, sometimes he's even angry at Alina, just like sometimes she's angry at him. But they always find their way back, always apologize and try to be better for each other, and if you think anger is a toxic trait, and not simply a natural human emotion, might I suggest touching some fucking grass?

Idk why you thought I'd stand for Mal slander on my blog, cuz I will not. So, I'm gonna stop there, because I have shit to do today, but I really do wonder how much of Mal's 'toxic' or 'terrible' traits, that make him such a 'bad' love interest for Alina, really comes from Darklina's who refuse to actually read the text critically at all, and instead take everything he does and says out of context to further their agenda that Alina should have ended up as the Darkling's fucking slave forever, because thats the "girl power feminist" ending somehow. Mal supports her, loves her, sacrifices for her at every turn, and does everything he can do, to the point of literally dying for her, to ensure that she can defeat Darkles and save the world. He protects her, and when they end up happy and safe together on the orphange that they've rebuilt to help the children that were victims of Darkles war and genocide, he spends his days bringing her tea and cakes and flowers, kissing her silly under the stairs in the view of all the teachers, and calling her names like beauty, beloved, cherished, my heart for the rest of their ordinary life together, if love can ever be called that.

[aromantic-romance-writer]

Tengen Uzui x Fem! Pillar! Reader

[I Value You The Most]

How many times have this gorgeous man made me jealous and straight at the same time, I have no idea-

So I made this to let those emotions all out lmao.

Pretty much self-indlugent though :((( sorry. And Tengen isn't married to his three unbelievably hot wives here too so double sorry-

Hopefully though, you would still be able to enjoy!

Tengen almost can't believe it. There you stood, in a pillar's demon slayer uniform (nothing really changed except the buttons were gold now, but still-), your legs wrapped in bandages. He remembers that day two years ago. He saved a certain girl whose rank was Kanoe from a Lower Moon demon.

"[L/N] [Y/N]. I'll do my very best." you say with a grin. After the Pillar Meeting, Tengen comes up to you.

"Congratulations on being a pillar!" he exclaims with proud eyes. You crane your neck to look up at him, your eyes wide with surprise.

"Y-you remember me?" You ask in disbelief.

He smiles broadly with a wink. "I do."

"Really?! Someone like me?" you ask yourself, feeling giddy. "Wow..."

"You've come a long way. We may be of the same rank, but you're not of the same flamboyant level as I am."

You laugh. "It's nice to see you haven't changed one bit, Uzui-san."

That fateful day, when the Sound Hashira have saved you and finished fighting off that demon, he gave you a proud smile.

"You did a flamboyant job staying alive all this time."

And he let you decapitate the demon's head.

Ever since, you worked harder than ever. He was your inspiration these past 24 months of relentless training and experimenting, until you yourself was able to defeat a demon from the 12 Kizuki.

And here you are now. Called the Blood Pillar.

° ° °

After every Pillar Meeting, Tengen gets more and more disturbed by the sight of you.

Almost after every meeting, you would have new bandages wrapped around your legs. And that was just your legs. He's sure that there could be more under that uniform. While some of the old ones were replaced with scars. At first, he doesn't mind. He thought that you were new to your position as a pillar and have some wounds from your missions, but it's been such a long time now. Why do you always have these new wounds and scars?

Then he remembers. Blood Pillar. Now that he thinks about it, what the hell? Blood Pillar? Exactly from what Breath is that derived from? Does that explain all these new injuires you keep getting?

After the meeting, you see him march up to you, looking all serious. Honestly scared the heck out of you. Did you do something wrong? But you aren't really interacting with him lately, much to your disappointment.

"[L/N]." he crouches to your eye level, giving you an intense stare. "Are you okay?"

You blink. "H-huh? Why wouldn't I be...?"

He frowns. Oh no, is that the wrong response? He straightens up and grabs your wrist, pulling you away. You weren't able to react correctly and even say anything as you stared at his grip on your wrist. You're not sure what to feel about it, but you can feel your cheeks grow hot.

"Where are we going?"

"I just want to have a little chat."

~

"Oh!" you exclaim as you understood what was the deal earlier back at the Ubuyashiki Estate. You were in an empty field, sitting on the fresh grass of spring. Tengen asked all about your breath style and wounds. You were seriously admiring how confident he is to just ask that to you when he knew you weren't really close. You can't even ask Sanemi about his own scars and where he got them.

"Actually, my father was a very skilled doctor." you start as he listened to you intently. "He taught me how to handle medicines and how this certain tool should be used, and the like. After the day you saved me, I wanted to become more useful as a slayer at the same time be an unexpected enemy to the demons."

"You see, I'm a marechi. And I met a demon whose Blood Demon Art makes their own blood explode or burn. And it gave me the idea, and started to experiment on my own blood. It was a painful process, but it was worth it. After I became a pillar, I learned some tricks from Shinobu-san since I spend a lot of my time getting treated at the Butterfly Estate. I learned how to make poisons painful to scabbard but painless to humans and stocked it in the sheath of my sword. But it's really pretty useless unless my blood is mixed with the poison."

You finish. You stare up at the cloudless sky, adoring the pure blue color of it. Tengen just stares at you for a moment.

"So basically, you have to cut yourself for each form you make with your sword covered in poison..." he concludes ismn a mutter. Why would you make such a breath style? And isn't it too dangerous for your wounds to get exposed all the time or for too long? Plus, demons' favorite food is marechi. Then there's also the threat of blood loss.

This was all irritating him for some reason. He never realized how he deeply cares for you. Every time he sees you with yet again a new bandage, he can't help but feela tightness in his chest.

"[L/N]." he says, making you look at him with a hum. You were taken aback at the soft expression he gave you. "Tell me every time you have a mission."

"Why though?" you ask with a curious look.

He averts his gaze, feeling sheepish. It was a first for Tengen to feel like this. He's never shied away before. In frustration, he abrputly stands. "Just because." and he scratches his head. He walks away, leaving you alone on the field.

"U-Uzui-san...?" you wore such a dumbfounded expression. Was that an order?

° ° °

You sigh in relief. You've finally managed to go on a mission without Tengen on your tail.

These past few months, he's been 'accompanying' you on your missions and it's been annoying you lately. You don't even tell him when that you'll go on a mission. You just get surprised that he's already waiting by your house. He's also doing most of the fighting as well. He wouldn't let you draw your sword sometimes. Somehow, you were able to escape from him today.

Although in those times, you enjoy his company. He doesn't really talk much and seems like he'd rather listen to you. From stories to things Shinobu tells you, to even your problems. He was always there, listening. You've noticed that the way he smiles at you have changed. He always had that reassuring smile. A smile that would tell you "I'm here, always". It reminded you of how your father would occasionally treat your wounds after playing outside. But your father have passed, and no one else would be there for you anymore.

Until Tengen came.

Truthfully, you didn't mind being lonely for a while. Your pride as a demon slayer would allow you to sacrifice your own life to save others. You believed that you lived a contented life already. Nothing more is going to make you happy nor sad. It's okay for you to die protecting others.

Again, until Tengen came.

It's always because of him, these beliefs and thoughts keep changing. He changed you to become stronger, to feel secured and reassured around him, and that something was missing in your life. You weren't sure what it was, but you refuse to pass away without it in your life.

You stop walking. The sun was setting, shedding its final rays of light on the surface from the horizon. The wind have become eerily cold. The scent of human blood was strong, but a stronger smell was coating it. You cover your nose in reflex. What a sinister smell. Pompous and confidence was strongly flowing in this demon's blood.

A 12 Kizuki?

But this scent was more disturbing than the last two Kizukis that you faced from the last two years.

You rushed to the scene, following the scent as it grew stronger and stronger. Soon, you find a distorted white figure growing from what it seems like a vase. His back were lined with infant-like arms and was humming to himself until he felt your presence.

He turns to you, widening your eyes in horror. His face was even more distorted.

"My, I think I smell a marechi." He seems to smile, though you really can't tell. "Fufu, and a pillar?"

You unsheathe your sword and took a stance. You read the kanji on his eyes that were placed vertically on his face.

Upper Moon Five.

All you've encoutered so far were Lower Moon demons, so you expect that this battle will be tough.

"Say, would you like me to show you a piece I've recently finished?" he asks, his tone sounding conceited.

You grit your teeth. "I am not interested." you cut your arm with your blade, making sure the edge is fully coated in blood.

The demon bobs his head to the side. "Since you caught my attention, I'll ignore your rudeness just this once." he grins. "What is the point of slicing your own flesh? To provoke me?"

"You'll find out soon enough." You say before charging at him.

° ° °

Tengen was running as fast as he can, and the closer he gets, the louder he can hear your sword clanging. Although he's a shinobi, so his speed is quite enhanced, he fears that he's too late. It took him this much time to figure out where you were.

He may have realized this later than he should, but you were precious to him. You gave him a reason to be stronger - to live. He won't allow himself to be weak and die before you. You were now his top priority, then the people, then himself. If he can, he'll force you out of the demon slayer corps. Oh, but he can, he just won't. Other than your safety, your happiness was also top priority.

After all those times you've talked together, fought together, he starts to cherish every single moment he spends with you. And he can tell that, although undeservedly, it was him who drove you to be who you are today.

The Blood Pillar.

Just a few more hours, the sun will start to rise. He was finally getting close, until he hears silence. The sounds of clanging and clashing stopped. His heart was practically beating out of his chest in suspense. What happened?

~

You were breathing deep and hard from exhaustion. Your body was littered with wounds and blood. You've ripped off your uniform's torso, showing a blood-stained bandage wrapped around your breasts. Gashes made by the demon were slowing you down up to the point where you couldn't swing your sword anymore.

"How foolish." he starts. "Your Breath of Blood will kill you. I can just wait here as you die from blood loss, you know."

You smirk. You shouldn't be underestimated. You spent two years shaping and creating a body immune to such threats like that. You can go for another 10 hours or more, if limitations didn't exist, of course. You were only human. You may be weak for a pillar at the time, but you'll get stronger. You have to. You might lose this battle, but you refuse to die.

Win or lose, you will abstain yourself from passing out. You won't die. Not yet.

"But then the sun will rise soon, and I should have a feast. A feast fit for a fine artist such as myself."

He attacks you, you dodge barely. He was taken aback at the fact that you can still move. He keeos attacking, and you just kept dodging until you were finally worn out.

He takes notice as a sinister smile becomes visible on his features. Just when his attack was about to land a blow on you, you felt broad arms wrap around you as you were taken away.

"Didn't I tell you to always inform me of your missions?" You start to tear up. You see Tengen's irked and perturbed expression. He was able to snatch your haori and covers you with the clothing. As he was about to stand, you clutch unto him. He just smiles that reassuring smile. "I'll be back with the same flamboyance." he winks.

As he starts fighting in your stead, you watch him with anxiety bubbling in your chest. As you watch him, you found out what was missing. Even if it was just for a day, just for a few hours, what was missing in your life was Tengen. Now that he's come into your life, he can't come out. You need him. You can't die yet. You still want to spend your life with him. He doesn't have to feel the same way, as long as he's alive and well.

~

The demon cussed under his breath in frustration and was able to escape just before the sun's rays hit him. Tengen quickly ran to you to see if you're still breathing. Fortunately, you were alive as you gave him a smile.

"[Y/N]..." he whispers as he carries you. He starts walking. "...don't scare me like that."

All you could do was hum in response, your eyes closed and just fully giving in to his warmth.

"Don't be stubborn next time and tell me when you'll go on a mission. I can't breathe easy knowing that my girl is out there cutting herself to kill a demon."

You open your eyes in surprise. "'My girl'...?"

He smiles slightly. "Mhm. Whether you feel the same or not, you're my girl and no one else's right now. You're the most valuable to me in my life. And if someone steals you from me..."

He gives it a thought. "...he has to be way better than me in every way so I have to approve, 'kay?"

You giggle lightly and snuggled against him. You didn't need to say anything to tell him that you also feel the same way, as he can hear your heart beating solely for him.

Tengen watches your sleeping face. He felt truly blessed as something as precious as your heart was beating for him. His heart was beating for you as well.

As if blessing your new-found love, the sun's blinding rays followed both of you walking home, feeling safe and secured and valued with each other.

[high-supernatural]

Unbroken IV: Back to the Real World

- This is part 4 to a part (who knows) series love story about a girl and Kai Parker.

Summary of the Series: Vera (V) has a connection to Kai that hasn’t been explained. Since she was young she could project into his prison world and interact. Over the years she got stronger and eventually broke him out. Think Supernatural’s Apocalypse world x parallel universe travel x kai parker. The rest you’ll have to read about :):)

Kai Parker x Female Character

Summary: Vera and Kai go on an adventure and make it back to the other world.

Word Count: 1518

Warnings: Typical TVD & SPN themes, finger pricking, Kai stabs reader (consensually), looting stores.

Kai and Vera set on their way to an unknown location in a car Kai found.

"We should stop at places along the way to wherever we're going," Vera exclaimed.

"Yeah? Like where?" Kai asked.

"Well... We have an entire world to ourselves, nobody around, and fully stocked stores with nobody to monitor them... you see where I'm going with this?" Kai glanced at her, playing dumb.

Vera huffed, "C'mon, it might all be merchandise from the '90s, but jewelry is jewelry. If I have an opportunity to hoard expensive things and steal without consequence, I'm taking it," she explained.

"A thief after my own heart," Kai joked.

"Besides... who else could see the world's largest ball of twine without any other tourists in the area?" Vera joked back.

"Been there, done that.... you're not missing much,"

"Oh come on, have some fun with me," she joked again.

They drove until sundown and found a random house to crash at for the night.

The two sat at the dinner table in the house after Kai made dinner again.

"If we're really doing this, we have to make a promise to each other," Vera spoke.

"Name your price," Kai looked at her attentively.

Vera propped her left elbow on the table, "give me your right pinky," she said.

Kai looked at her like she was weird but obliged. She put a hand on the wrist he gave her and pulled out a small pocket knife and handed it to Kai, "this is how I and the other you made pacts, you cut my pinky, I cut yours, we interlock our fingers, let the blood drip, and our pact is sealed."

She held her hand out to Kai, watching him slice her finger slowly and attentively before taking the knife from him and returning the gesture, interlocking their pinky's after.

"Ok, repeat after me, when we get to the other side, we won't leave each other," they looked into each other's eyes.

Kai repeated, "when we get to the other side, we won't leave each other."

"We'll be there for each other,"

"We'll be there for each other,"

"We are all we have,"

"We are all we have,"

"We learn about that world together,"

"We learn about that world together,"

Blood from both of their pinkies dripped down each other's hands.

"We won't abandon each other, or try to kill each other, we stick together,"

"We stick together,"

"No matter what," she said

"No matter what," Kai said.

"What else?" she asked.

Kai thought for a minute, "my fight is your fight,"

"My fight is your fight too," she repeated.

"Nothing will separate us," he said.

"Nothing will separate us,"

"That's all," Kai ended.

"Now I kiss your hand and you kiss mine, same time," She leaned to kiss his hand as he kissed hers, still looking at each other they pulled away.

The next day they took their time driving the rest of the way to their destination, making stops at numerous stores to gather things they found they wanted to take back with them.

"Pull over into this store," Vera said pointing at a high-end-looking jewelry store.

They walked into the dark store with flashlights, "wow," Vera gasped, "I can't believe you never looted any of these stores," her eyes laid on a diamond necklace, "look at that!" She walked behind the counter to pick it up, stuffing it in her bag.

"I would have if I had anywhere to wear these things," Kai said looking around, "besides, do you know how hard this glass is to get into?" He asked.

"Not very hard if you have the right tools," Vera smirked holding a baseball bat she rigged with a glass breaker on the end. They both wandered around the store checking out the things they want when Vera walked up to Kai with a ring sizer in hand, "what size ring do you wear," she asked.

"I don't know, 8?" he questioned.

She placed the ring sizer around his pinky finger, "9 actually."

"Why?" He asked.

"Well, we made a pact, might as well seal it in diamonds," she smashed a cabinet open with her bat, "I pick yours, you pick mine?" she asked.

Kai took the bat from her hands to rummage through the counter with women's rings, coming back over to her, "this looks like you," he picked up her hand from her left side and slid a skinny black snake ring with a diamond coating over her pinky.

"This looks like you then," she returned the gesture with a black band that had diamonds around the sides.

Kai squinted at her, "you know me well, somehow," he said in mild suspicion, "well, grab what you want, let's get going so we can beat the sun," he said.

She filled her bag with anything she thought was pretty and they were on their way again.

The destination they arrived at was Portland, Oregon. Kai pulled the car up to a white house slowly, "we're here," he said and got out of the car.

"Where is here?" Vera asked.

"Portland. My childhood home," he smiled and gestured her inside.

She knew Kai's past, but he didn't know that yet. He still thought Vera was just a girl who could see into his world and came back for that reason and that reason only. She didn't intend on bringing it up.

Vera's gift of seeing people for who they are behind their facade also worked with humans like Kai. Behind the cockiness, the jokes, insults, his weird ways of flirting, and general meanness, she saw behind all of it, something else Kai didn't know about her.

When she looked at him deeply she saw a hurt kid. Somebody who was born different and rejected for it. Deeper she saw the isolation. She knew he was isolated for being different. She didn't see a sociopathic serial killer, she saw a hurt young man who wanted revenge for the rejection and isolation placed on him. He didn't frighten her.

They walked into Kai's house, "why'd you want to come here?" she asked.

"This is where it all started. I figured this is where it should end," he told her, "I never told you the story of how I got here, did I?"

All she said was, "no," she wanted to hear it from him.

He pulled a chair out for her and gestured for her to sit as he sat across from her.

"I was born into a coven, a family of witches," he started, "the Gemini coven." He looked away from her at the table by her arm. "They had a tradition that every twin merges on their 22nd birthday and becomes the leader, but I was different," he paused. "I was born a siphoner, I siphon magic from others, I don't technically have my own, they were afraid of me,"

Vera interrupted, "so they isolated you?" she asked.

He looked up, "how'd you know?"

"Wild guess," she lied.

"Yeah," he looked back down, "they isolated me on the day of the merge... so I killed them. Every last one of my family members, except my father and my twin... when we began the merge, other members of the coven showed and they locked me here," he downplayed.

"Okay," she said calmly looking at him.

He looked at her confused, "okay?"

"Yeah... okay," she smiled.

Kai squinted, "either you're just as insane or you didn't hear me... I killed my whole family," he said with infliction.

"I know what you said. The way I see it though is they treated you bad and you wanted revenge. That doesn't really make you the bad guy," Vera looked right at him to catch his reaction.

He didn't say anything, he got up from his chair and walked to the kitchen, "hungry?" he changed the subject.

She could see this made him uncomfortable, he wasn't used to somebody accepting him and not being afraid, but decided to leave it alone, for a while, at least.

The next day was the day they were planning on leaving. They walked into the field under the eclipse for extra measure.

"Okay, remember what to do?" she asked, "I'm going to put my backpacks on, die with the other world in mind, you hold onto me and hope for the best," she looked at him.

Vera handed him a knife she took from the kitchen, "all hands on deck babe, don't let go," she said giving him a new nickname.

Kai plunged the knife into her heart and she held onto his forearm falling to her knees coughing. Kai got down with her, pulling the knife back out, and closed his eyes for a second, opening them to find themselves in the same field with some differences.

He looked around and realized they made it.

Vera laid motionless in his kneeling lap as he tried waking her before laying her in the grass and walking around, feeling the sunshine, watching the new types of cars drive by, taking the victory in.

Vera woke minutes later coughing to find Kai standing by the road, stumbling to get up and walk over to him.

She said out of breath, "looks like we made it," and coughed, "where to now?" she gripped her heart, still recovering.

"I have some business to take care of," Kai looked around and back at her, "care to join?" They both smiled.

[haikyuuwaifu]

Regardless of what actual race you are, that weekly PSA just comes off as dismissing and it feels like you’re trying to give an excuse for people with white privilege to stop trying as hard. Yes, there are many important issues at hand rn, but u essentially dismissing them trying to help spread awareness is not good at all. Issues can coexist and be tended to at the same time. Educating them with the proper ways and tools to help is going to help in the long run. You just have to look at the bigger picture.

And white people don’t face racism. The system is built with them and their ‘comfort’ and their well-being in mind. You can be racially prejudiced or discriminatory towards them. But you can’t be racist to them because no matter what, there’s a glaring power imbalance between the races. There’s a difference. And even if it is a minority of white people who are racist, what gives you the right to say that majority are not? Ignorance, prejudice, discrimination & racism don’t come out one singular identifying way.

And who are you to tell people to stop being prejudiced and cautious towards them when they’ve been hurt by them? Yes, one shouldn’t fight hate with hate, but being on the receiving end of racism is a traumatic process that has many stages that one has to go through. It’s not just ‘they called me a pasty ghost and said I don’t own spices’, it’s ‘they spat on the roadside at the sight of me and harassed me verbally and or physically’. There’s a difference. I’m not condoning hating on another race, regardless of whichever race is being target by who. But I can’t just sit here and let you say dismissive stuff like this.

As a non white passing POC, I just don’t think you should be saying any of that other than the ‘you shouldn’t fight hate with hate’. But you have to realise, it’s human nature to fight back when hurt, and POC have been historically and systematically hurt. We’ve been pitted against each other for centuries too. This isn’t a one off thing. So please reevaluate your message because mixed kids go through an entire process of trying to find their identity too.

So, on MY blog, I’m ALLOWED to make PSA’s about whatever I want to. It’s my OPINION. If people don’t like my opinion, they don’t have to read it. They can stop following me. They can block me and that’s okay. 

Second of all: I’m literally not making an excuse for people with white privilege to “not use their privilege”. I’m stating a fact, that more often than not, white people have been told to “mind their own business”. They don’t “know the struggle”, they don’t “have any right to chime in on shit that isn’t about them.” Yet, they’re the same people with the “privilege” to make a fucking difference. As pointed out REPEATEDLY, white people should “BE THE CHANGE” and “USE THEIR VOICES” but they’re also the ones who get shit on when they Do chime in to say something about a particular problem NOT concerning the race they aren’t apart of.

Third: It doesn’t matter how the system is built, RACISM IS RACISM. It doesn’t matter what fucking color their skin is. RACISM IS RACISM. So, believe it or not, you CAN IN FACT, BE RACIST TO A WHITE PERSON. Regardless of the fucking “system” you can be racist to white people. They are people too? Are they not? They have a different skin color, do they not?  I don’t understand WHY people just sit there and dismiss this glaring fact, but regardless of SKIN COLOR, if you treat THEM the same way they treat YOU, YOU’RE ALSO A RACIST. There’s no way to write off the behavior. 

Fourth: Why does the “majority” of the white race, get labeled as racist? What if they didn’t do anything to ANYONE? What if they were just minding their own business, and then BAM they’re automatically racist, because they’re white? Pretty much “all” white people are literally being coined as racist, when a LARGE MAJORITY OF THEM haven’t even done anything to anyone. But let’s just label them all racist anyway. 

There is nothing wrong with caution, everyone should be cautious, regardless of race or orientation. Being prejudice on the other hand, doesn’t solve anything. It continues to create an even bigger problem. There is LITERALLY no reason, to fight back with the same AMMUNITION THEY FUCKING USED. Yes, racism is a traumatic process. No one said it wasn’t, but fighting it by back the same way they do isn’t the answer either. There is no defending of the actions from either side. 

As a white passing, POC I’m pretty sure I can say what I want to, considering the fact that I MYSELF, have gone through it. But I guess, because I’m half white, what I have to say doesn’t matter. I don’t know what it’s like to be treated differently, because I’m half white. I don’t know what it’s like to be bullied, for not being 100% Hawaiian or Chinese? I didn’t get asked questions from other white kids about people in Hawaii living in grass huts or not having proper education. 

I didn’t get stared at by the local girls in my school, because I had white skin and dark features. I didn’t get looked down on because I couldn’t learn hula or how to speak the language since I had to move away all the time.  As a MIXED woman I too, had to find my identity and it consists of me knowing WHO I am and WHAT I stand for. 

As I have stated previously, this is my blog. You don’t have to like what I say. You don’t have to agree with what I have to say. It’s my opinion. You can take it however you want to take it. But don’t come at me and tell me as a non-passing POC what I can and cannot say. You don’t know me. You don’t know my life, and you don’t know what I have had to live with. 

Yeah, POC have it hard. They’re fighting each other AND other races. Mixed kids ALSO have it hard, because they don’t belong to ANYONE and they’re reminded of that fact constantly. WE DO NOT BELONG to one SINGULAR group of people, but I’m white right? So I don’t know how it feels to be a mixed kid trying to find herself huh?

[noahser]

How do we treat game(no preaching, Using details and emotions)-- to put out your view on games

hold on for 3 secondsDon’t push yourself to answer this. I hope in the next few minutes, i can make you fell more confident when you are playing games.Background: games industries start to get boom steadily

Game companies start to recruit more people and headhunt talented people from other industries. salary in most game corporations gets their boost bit by bit.“ Shanghai claims itself as a global E-games city with the most considerable salary jump and heated recruiting. The biggest occupation demand gap is the producer of a game, TA(technology art), and engineering. In some shanghai companies, some graduates can get 500 thousand yuan a year, which is pretty considerable. Some scarce jobs’ salary can get double by job-hopping from another city”, cited from Times Zhoubao reporter named Jason.Some Chinese companies also make some excellent games possible: Forged In Shadow Torch, Tales of immortal, The Scroll of Taiwu, Dyson Sphere Program, Genshin Impact, and so on.▼Posters of gamesBut since not a single game company in China has made it through the game industrialization transformation process, we still can not forge a game that can be on a par with other foreign 3A games and get a long way to go. But, we are moving forward.Status Quo: People’s attitudes towards games have begun to change, and more and more people have started to pay attention to games. E-sports or live broadcasting are rapidly developing, and people have gradually adopted a more positive attitude towards games.Many games have also acted as social tools (Honor of Kings, Game For Peace, Mole’s World, Harry Potter), in games, people experience virtual worlds. Games are even changing the real world, and the influence of games is becoming more and more noticeable.The game has become a tool for connecting feelings among roommates in the dormitoryGames became a time killer for boys in the back row of college classesThe game has become a useful tool to alleviate the embarrassment when people are waiting for food at the table or the follow-up supplement activities after a meal when there is nothing to do in your mind.Do games seem to be needed by more people? Is the game really being treated fairly by more and more people?But wait, it doesn't seem right. These are something we are evading. Why do we choose to play games in these scenarios?You said that the dormitory relationship is not easy to handle. Finding some time to play games together could enhance our relationships.You said that you are socializing and your friends are all playing this game. If you don't play it, I could be regarded as withdrawn.You said that are there that many things to talk about when you hold an event together? Play a game together to relieve boredom. Isn't it good?You say that this is the ninth art. I am leveling up my aesthetic taste and experiencing different life experiences.▼An art form other than (painting, sculpture, architecture, music, poetry (literature), dance, drama, film)You said that I was so tired in class or work, I want to relax in the game.Wait, are we evading something? Do you need so many reasons for playing games? Can games only be used as tools? Games, can not they just be games?Let me tell my story. When I was in elementary school, I lived in my grandmother’s village. After school, what should we do after we have nothing to do? Of course, it was having fun. We go to play glass balls, play cards, throw sandbags, play top toys on ice, and use BB guns to shoot birds, which made me feel really regretful till now.At that time, the plastic bullet did not grant BB guns great power. The bird would fall off at most when it hits, and it could not fly temporarily cause it still hurts. At this time, we would happily rush over to catch the bird. Of course, birds were useless for us if we keep it. So we would release the birds afterward. But once, we hit a bird with a bullet, it fell off suddenly. I rushed over happily, only to find that the eye was hit with blood flowing. It was the first time we encountered this situation. I suddenly felt regretful. That was the first time I felt heartache for a bird. I held it up and put it under the alpine grass outside the yard to let it rest and prevent others from catching it. (Actually, I don’t know what to do). After a while, when I

went to check again, I found it disappeared. I don't know what fate it faced afterward. I blamed myself for a while and never used a BB gun to aim at birds again. After having such an experience, I began to understand "Whether it is a human or a small animal, the pain will make those who experience it feel intense discomfort whether you are the hurt one or not." When I picked up the BB gun, I didn't even think about what I could get from it. All of this may be an unexpected gain.Later, I get to know video games from a friend. A small game computer can be connected to the TV to play a variety of cool games just by plugging in a ROM cartridge. It really refreshed my cognition about games at the time. So, I spent all the pocket money I had saved for a long time on a family computer called Subor - a game console in the store, which is apparently a private version. But i knew that way later on. I was ecstatic and take it home. Whenever there was just me at home, I turned on the TV and browse a set of games on my “Subor”—— Mario, Contra, Nunchaku, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, and other games, even these simple interaction logic of these games can make me fascinated. Later, on the basis of these games, I also came into contact with more excellent works, such as Mortal, Streets of Rage, King of Fighters, Street Fighter, and so on. . . Subsequently, the Internet swept up, and web games emerged, QQ Tang, QQ Pet, QQ Speed, CF, and CS Online showed on the desktop of my computer. Although I had been reprimanded for playing games, these games gave me a better understanding of games. I came to figure out that” wow, games can be like this”. Recalling now, did I want to get anything when I played the game? No, all of this may still be unexpected gains.Why, when we talk about playing games, we never admit that we are playing, and we always feel that we need to pursue meaning in order to justify our behavior of playing games.Looking back at the emergence of many things, when French photographers Louis Lumiere and Auguste Lumiere brothers put their invented "event projector" in a cafe, and when they played their films, did they mull the meanings from this thing that can bring to us? I'm afraid not. But we all know what the movie has achieved today."Today I have been busy, nothing can be done, I suddenly missed all the women of that day. After careful examination one by one, I found that their behavior and knowledge are all above me. Don't protect yourself because of my dissatisfaction, and also make them annihilate." This is Cao Xueqin's original intention to explain her creation in the first chapter of "A Dream of Red Mansions". Literature may not think about the meaning, but it captures the beautiful and subtle emotions that could not be written in words before and creates a world of New. For example, light enters a dark room, which is dark for a hundred thousand years, and it can be enlightened at once. , So we can see the “Bullet screen” like "Thousand-year dark room, a light bright the dark all", "Although it can't come, my heart yearns for it" "After that, if there is no torch, I will be the only light", not just "Olygi" at the ends of some high-energy videosSo, where is the meaning of playing games? I want to say: it can be meaningless. If it can bring me unexpected gains, of course, it is better, but if it doesn't, it doesn't matter.When we let go of the idea of ​binding the game to other meanings, we can really play the game.Stop deceiving yourself by saying that I play games to socialize, I play games to feel the ninth art, and I play games to relax my brain for better learning. stop! I play games because I like games, nothing else, just to play games. Because a game can only be a game.

[percabeth4life]

I Accidentally Vaporize My Pre-Algebra Teacher

First Chapter || Previous Chapter || Next Chapter (coming soon) || AO3

And we’ve reached canon timeline!

Ms. Dodds clearly has something out for me.

I can tell.

She watches me with narrow eyes, a dangerous look on her face.

I can feel the magic that clings to her, it feels like the strange itch of a curse, but not quite.

There’s an almost buzz with her, cloudy and indistinct.

I really don’t like her either.

Thankfully I’m good enough at Math to do alright in her class, or I really fear what she would do to me.

But as it is, I’m very worried.

“There’s been a theft.”

Triton was worried, he hasn’t contacted me since that letter.

“Keep your head down.”

I miss him, is he okay?

“Stay away from the ocean.”

I’m worried and scared, what’s going on?

“Don’t contact me.”

I need to tell someone about Ms. Dodds, I need to do something.

“Stay safe.”

What am I supposed to do?

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

Ms. Dodds almost seems to follow me around, I don’t dare use my waterbending outside of my room nowadays.

I haven’t used it much outside of my room anyways, but I played with the water in my cups and spilled some people’s drinks when they were rude.

They deserved it.

Nancy is more than happy to try to get me in trouble with Ms. Dodds though, it’s annoying. I’m not sure how to keep off her radar when Nancy tries to blame everything on me.

I’m just really glad for all of Triton’s lessons now. Triton might not be here, but his lessons still help me.

“There will be enemies you cannot match. They will be stronger than you, you will lose in a fair fight.”

Triton taught me a lot.

“There are two main paths to take. They depend on the situation.”

I don’t know if I’m treating the situation right, but I’m going to do my best.

“If you have no choice but to fight, anger them. Make them angry, mock them, tease them, attack their pride, their honor, their hair. Do whatever it takes to throw them off. An angry enemy is a dumb enemy.”

I smiled in the face of Nancy’s accusations and did my best to always be around at least two other people. I will have an alibi this year. There won’t be a repeat of previous year’s situations.

“If you can though, try to defuse the situation. Manners, sweet smiles, agreeing with them in everything they say. Don’t antagonize them, be the kindest, sweetest, most well-behaved person you can be. Make it so they don’t want to fight you.”

Ms. Dodds is scary, and I want Triton, I want the sea, I want home.

But I have to stay here, so I smile and nod and say yes ma’am and I hide my power.

I acted as ordinary as I possibly could.

I don’t think it’s working.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

I tried to read the ex-cursed book from first semester. It’s all in Latin though? I can’t read it very well, just picking out certain words here and there. How annoying.

The paper felt old, but it doesn’t look it? It doesn’t seem to have any power in it anymore, at least I don’t feel anything other than the constant buzz around me.

Oh well, I’ll have to get better at reading Latin to read this book I guess.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

I talked with Carl the fish a lot, while researching how to make him human again.

At this point I think I just need more power, the person that cursed him is stronger than me, so I have two options for undoing the curse. I could pull the curse apart at its base, but that would require me understanding how the curse was laid, and what the exact nature of the curse is, and so many details.

I learned a lot about curses, I’m so glad I had these books before whatever happened on the solstice.

The curses can be of different natures, woven ones where the curse is weaved almost like making a cloth, layered ones where it’s parts are all laid on top of the other, overwhelming ones where they just force their will on the subject, and twisting ones where they shift the nature of the object, that one is usually done for objects already enchanted though.

If you know the nature of the curse you can pick it apart, pull at woven ones until the fabric of the curse comes undone, peel the layers up one by one for layered ones, slip underneath and yank the overwhelming ones off (though it’s recommended to be sure of your skill to counter those), or just re-twist the twisting ones back to their original nature.

I thinks this one is either twisting or woven, but if I mess up doing the careful way of unwinding it then I could make it worse. Twisting a woven curse tightens it and makes it harder to undo and pulling a twisting one does the same.

So, I was probably going to do the second way, which is just plain overpowering it. But that requires a lot of power, especially if it’s twisting or woven. Those two are the hardest to undo through sheer power.

Ugh.

But Carl was at least nice to talk to, he helped me stay calm even though I have no idea what’s going on.

I should figure out how to make a bubble of water to bring him with me. That would be easier then leaving him with Gabe. I doubt it’s safe for him there. It was only safe last summer because Gabe didn’t find out about him till the very end of the summer.

Yeah, I’ll look into making a way to carry Carl.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

I frowned over the book on healing, and the medical kit spread out in front of me. I want to get better at healing, unfortunately I need to figure out the tools.

I picked up one of the tools, this is just the basic set but it’s so varied.

Okay, so this is treated seaweed, for binding the wounds that you can’t heal all at once. This is purification stone to cleanse the wound to make it easier to heal. The slim shell knife is for working with the wound? And for cutting the seaweed to the right length. There’s an antibacterial mix, made from… something. I don’t know how this is made, I should probably learn.

The shell paste that hardens into a cast is cool though. And the spider crab thread is cool. I didn’t know the spider crabs made thread but looking through the manual it says that’s what the thread is from. Maybe there’s a mythical one I don’t know about? There’s also a jar of enchanted fish, enchanted to sleep until you open the jar, to eat dead skin.

There are also the basics, like in any land first aid kit. Tweezers, scissors, painkillers (though these are made from a fish with paralytic abilities that cuts off pain, it’s cool), and a thermometer (though again, it’s a type of coral that’s very sensitive to changes in temperature and enchanted to live).

Then there’s some stuff I’m not sure about? I don’t know if land kits have them, the one at home doesn’t.

There’s a large soft blanket made of woven sea grasses (so soft) that has one side woven with coral shielding, the kind that keeps in heat, a type of woven mix of sea grass stuffed with anemone puff that cools rapidly when exposed to water.

The manual shows how to use it all and one of my extra books shows how to combine them with healing. It’s interesting, I just wish I had someone to practice it on. I’ll just have to try it with minor injuries that I get?

I sighed, oh well. It’ll come in handy some day I’m sure.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

Mr. Brunner is acting strangely as well.

I saw Mr. Brunner and Ms. Dodds talking, well, actually it sounded more like threatening each other from where I was standing.

I still don’t know if Mr. Brunner is safe, but he doesn’t have the itch of a curse on him. So maybe he’s okay.

He certainly seems safer than Ms. Dodds.

Mr. Brunner has started teaching us how to hold swords during lessons.

I don’t like any of the swords, they don’t feel right.

But some of them have that feel to them, a buzz in my head. They aren’t normal, they definitely have magic of some kind.

The one Mr. Brunner uses has the most powerful feeling, and it reminds me of Elei’s trident, made in the ocean of her power. Made of her.

I’m pretty sure that sword is of the ocean.

I pretend I don’t know that Mr. Brunner has what’s likely the essence of a being of the sea, even though it makes me ache. It’s just like Elei’s, what if there’s a being out there missing their essence?

I smile and nod again, hiding my fear, my worry, my anger.

Triton will be upset if I fall apart just because I can’t see Triton.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

I stood at the edge of the pit again. This time there was someone else there, though I can’t see them.

I could feel something I hadn’t noticed before, sliding sand, soft and soothing, prickling over my hands, pinpricks of warmth and a feeling of numbness. The feelings together are strange, a bit uncomfortable, but they don’t bother me too much.

“-rry Master. I couldn’t get it to you, but I won’t fail again! I will find a way to let it reach you, I swear it.”

“Your failure has put back our plans by quite a bit, I now must expend energy to keep the wayward god under my control, I do not have the power to spare yet.”

“I know, I- I have no excuse. I failed you because of my own arrogance.”

The voice murmured something, I think it’s the Thalozan language, which is really, really, old but Triton knows a few words and taught me them.

I have no idea what the voice is saying though, I just recognize the sounds.

“I will make arrangements, return to your sleep.”

“Yes Master.”

There was a faint whisper, then the other presence was gone.

There were more faint murmurs in the other language, possibly Thalozan? Before it suddenly went silent.

“Ah, I see you’ve returned little Half-blood.”

“It’s Percy,” I reminded.

The low chuckle returned, “Indeed.”

I heard a faint murmur, “Fainter, less than before, not sure,” before he hummed, “How-“

I woke up.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

I hate the stupid detention I’m stuck in.

I didn’t do anything! But Nancy Bobfit decided to blame me for stealing something, and my alibi didn’t work.

I have to clean the classroom for this detention, I’m pretty sure I’m just supposed to sit quietly in a room and listen to a lecture for an hour, but Ms. Dodds doesn’t go by normal rules.

So, I’m stuck in that room, with a rag and a spray bottle, reluctantly cleaning the room.

I’m staying polite though, I’m not going to let Nancy ruin all my hard work at making Ms. Dodds not kick me out at the first opportunity.

I sprayed the desk and wiped it down, this is nowhere near as hard as cleaning the river. I’ll be fine.

“Now honey,” Ms. Dodds started, “You know why you’re here yes?”

Ms. Dodds was apparently an expert at torture.

A faint buzz nudged at my senses.

The next hour was spent with her subtle implications that I’m a horrible thief, shouldn’t be in the school, brings shame to everyone, am a horrible person, and am probably cheating and she just couldn’t prove it yet.

It was getting harder and harder to resist the urge to lash out. But I need to keep my temper.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

I blinked in the room I’m in, looking around.

I’m back in the undersea palace, Oceanus’s palace.

I’m in my probable dad’s palace.

…

I should look around.

For… research… yeah.

I promptly left the room to explore more.

It’s pretty, I like the walls, covered with glittering murals. I passed an opening and stared in awe at the dark waters filled with lantern fish and other glowing beings.

I decided I like it, it’s comfortable in a different way than the places I’ve been with Triton.

“Back again I see.”

I whipped around to see Oceanus there once more.

“Er… Hi.”

Dumb, stupid, idiot, don’t just say hi!

I quickly twisted my hand into the proper motion of respect.

Oceanus’s lips twitched.

“Perhaps introduce yourself first this time little half-blood, you have the unfortunate habit of disappearing before you can.”

“Ah, yeah… sorry.”

He raised an eyebrow, looking at me expectantly.

“Oh uh, I’m Percy Ja-“

“Oceanus! Who is that presence? Where does it keep coming from!?”

I decided I should resign myself to being entirely unable to ever introduce myself to my probable dad.

Maybe he just hasn’t gotten a chance to see me in a while? So, he doesn’t know what I looked like?

I hope so.

“Tethys, my love, that presence would be this young Half-Blood.” Oceanus motioned to me.

I bit my lip but ignored the pang in my chest at Oceanus calling Tethys his love, of course he would! Tethys is his wife, even if my mom is amazing and incredible and deserves the whole world, Oceanus wouldn’t have married his wife if he didn’t love her.

The Titans didn’t do that nonsense like the gods did.

The mermaid that approached was familiar, it’s the one I saw in my first dream to the undersea palace. A feeling of just general clean washed over me, curling currents swaying over my skin, interrupting the cold deep currents that I hadn’t even realized I felt.

Her tail the flowiest of any, glittering brilliantly in silvers and blues.

“Oh? The little half-blood from a few months ago.”

I quickly gave her the proper motion of respect.

Her lips twitched like Oceanus’s, “And who might you be little Half-Blood?”

“I’m Percy Ja-“

I woke up.

Why me.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

We’re going on a fieldtrip!

I hate fieldtrips!

Yay!

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

I sat next to Grover, resisting the urge to drown Nancy.

Murder is bad, murder is bad, murder is ba-

Another sandwich piece in Grover’s hair…

Maybe murder wasn’t so bad.

“Don’t, you don’t need to get in trouble with Ms. Dodds here, she has it out for you.”

Grover was holding my arm.

He clearly could tell that I’m ready to fight Nancy.

I scowled but stayed seated.

“She needs to get some taste, peanut butter and ketchup sandwiches in your hair? She might as well just toss her lunch in the trash.”

“Ha just stay calm and hope Ms. Dodds doesn’t see anything.”

I sighed, “Fine.”

It’s probably for the best that Grover stopped me, Triton would be disappointed in me if I let my temper win over in a fight that I can’t win with it.

You’re not supposed to get angry, you’re supposed to make your opponent angry.

I sighed and forced myself to not snap and drown Nancy with the water from my waterskin when she threw another piece of her sandwich at Grover.

This was going to be a long fieldtrip.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

See, I like fieldtrips, in theory.

They could be really fun! But things keep happening on them and well… I’m extremely wary of fieldtrips now.

I tried to not be worried, Mr. Brunner is running this trip after all.

I’m still not sure if he’s trustworthy, but he still doesn’t seem to mean me any harm. Grover nervously wrung his hands now that we were out of the bus.

Ms. Dodds walked right behind the two of us, I worked very hard to keep a happy expression on my face. Don’t need her getting on us about being suspicious or something. That would be bad.

We walked through the museum, Mr. Brunner leading us.

I smiled as I studied the different displays. It wasn’t as cool as what’s under the sea, but it was still pretty impressive.

Oceanus’s palace was cooler though.

My eye twitched as annoying students kept talking and interrupting Mr. Brunner. I was having a hard time hearing his explanation.

I resisted the urge to tell them to shut up, that would get a look from Ms. Dodds, and I did not need that.

Mr. Brunner moved on to talking about some funeral art, explaining the significance and-

“It’s just a naked guy on a wall,” snickered Nancy.

I sighed, “It’s not just a naked guy on a wall, it’s a stele, as Mr. Brunner said it’s a column of stone that has the image of the god that the girl that it once served as the gravestone for worshipped. Honestly if your brain wasn’t the same size as a jellyfish’s then you’d know that Nancy.”

The group laughed as Nancy flushed, glaring at me.  Mr. Brunner paused in his story.

“Did you have a comment Mr. Jackson?”

“No sir, sorry for interrupting.” I flushed slightly, whoops.

He nodded then pointed to one of the pictures on the stele, “Perhaps you’ll tell us what this picture represents?”

I brightened, “That would be the Titan King Kronos, the Titan of Time and Agriculture, eating his kids the gods.”

Mr. Brunner nodded, but made a motion with his hand, “And he did this because…”

I bounced on my feet, resisting the urge to smile, “He got a prophecy that said his child would overthrow him, so he ate his children to prevent it. But then his wife, Rhea the Titaness of motherhood, gave him a rock instead of feeding him his youngest, Zeus. Then Zeus grew up, raised in secret by some nymphs, and he tricked Kronos into throwing up-“

“Gross!” A few kids muttered.

“-his other kids by feeding him a mustard and wine mix. Then the gods got together and ended up over throwing him. They cut him into a lot of tiny pieces and threw the pieces into Tartarus.”

Behind me, Nancy Bobofit mumbled to a friend, “Like we’re going to use this in real life. Like it’s going to say on our job applications, ‘Please explain why Kronos ate his kids.’”

“And why, Mr. Jackson,” Mr. Brunner started, “to paraphrase Miss Bobofit’s excellent question, does this matter in real life?”

Grover snickered softly, “Busted.”

“Shut up,” Nancy hissed, her face even brighter red than her hair.

Just more proof to me that Mr. Brunner wasn’t human, I could barely hear her, and I was right next to her.

“Because we can learn from the mistakes of the past to improve ourselves in the present, and it’s also just very interesting.”

Mr. Brunner nodded, though he didn’t seem fully pleased, “That’s very nearly correct Mr. Jackson. Full credit. Zeus did indeed feed Kronos a mixture of mustard and wine, which made him disgorge his other five children, who, of course, being immortal gods, had been living and growing up completely undigested in the Titan’s stomach. The gods defeated their father, sliced him to pieces with his own scythe, and scattered his remains in Tartarus, the darkest part of the Underworld. On that happy note, it’s time for lunch. Ms. Dodds, would you lead us back outside?”

The class drifted off to follow Ms. Dodds. Some of the girls were holding their stomachs, most of the guys were shoving each other and acting like doofuses.

“Mr. Jackson,” Mr. Brunner’s call stopped me from going too.

I paused, turning to him, nudging Grover onward.

“Sir?”

Mr. Brunner looked at me solemnly from an ancient gaze, another point towards him not being human.

“You must learn the answer to my question,” he said seriously.

I chewed my lip, I know what it means, but I also can’t know more until Triton says so. He said it’s dangerous, so I would listen.

“Yes sir.”

“What you learn from me,” he continued, “is vitally important. I expect you to treat it as such. I will accept only the best from you, Percy Jackson.”

I wanted to get angry, it’s unreasonable of him to hold me to higher standards than the rest of the students. It’s frustrating! I tried as hard as I could, and he was a better teacher than many I’d had, but…

I glared at the ground as I nodded, I tried so hard to learn all the names and match them to the proper facts and make sure it was spelled right. It’s so hard to do in English!

I don’t know who he is, if he’s safe or a threat, but I’m so frustrated that he’s holding me to these standards and no one else.

He told me to go outside and eat my lunch as he stared at the stele mournfully.

I wonder if he killed the girl?

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

I stepped outside to see Grover waiting for me right by the door.

I idly noticed Nancy and her friends (I know it’s shocking that she has any) standing nearby too. A storm was forming outside.

We started walking past the fountain, right next to the stairs.

“Detention?” Grover asked as we reached the stairs.

I put my hand on the fountain as I took the first step, “Nah, not-“

“Whoops.”

And Grover was falling.

Nancy laughed, her hand out.

Grover was falling.

My vision went red, roaring in my ears as I yanked.

A scream from Nancy, a cry from Grover.

When I could see again Grover was alright, if soaked.

Nancy was gasping for breath in the fountain, looking like a drowned rat.

The other students were gaping.

“The water-“

“It just reached out-“

“Did you see that?”

“Percy pushed me!” Nancy finally gets the air to speak.

I ignored her, moving to check on Grover.

He coughed, rubbing his butt, but otherwise seemed okay.

My chest loosened. Thank goodness.

“Now honey-“ Ms. Dodds had appeared.

I glared up at her, did she not see what just happened.

“Come with me,” She said.

“Wait!” Grover yelped, “He was just trying to help me!”

Ms. Dodds looked down at him, “Violence is never the answer Mr. Underwood.”

“But-“

“You – will – stay – here.”

I shook my head when Grover looked at me worriedly, pulling my waterskin out of my bag and fingering my trident charm.

“Hold my bag? I’ll be back soon.”

Ms. Dodds turned and walked back up the stairs, “Honey, Now.”

I swallowed and followed, shooting my deluxe I’ll-kill-you-later stare that Triton helped me master at Nancy.

I looked back to Ms. Dodds and was unsurprised to see her at the top of the steps.

The buzz around her was weakening, and the itch of the not-curse was getting stronger. She’s going to attack me.

I walked up the steps regardless, better away from everyone.

She kept going deeper into the museum. When I finally caught up we were back in the Greek and Roman section.

She stood with her arms crossed in from of a big marble frieze of the Greek gods. She was also growling low in her throat.

I swallowed.

“You’ve been giving us problems, honey,” She snarled.

The buzzing was fading, the itch making me want to scratch my arms.

I raised my chin, slid my “princely” face on, and responded, “I’m sorry for any problems I’ve caused Ms. Dodds.”

I held the waterskin tightly, one finger pressed on the lid.

“Did you really think you would get away with it? Or that a simple apology would pardon the crime?”

She looked angry, furious. Her face was creased, I could almost see the change that was starting, the buzz was almost non-existent.

“I don’t understand Ms. Dodds, what crime am I being accused of?”

Thunder boomed as the storm that had been brewing outside broke.

“We are not fools Percy Jackson,” Ms. Dodds continued. “It was only a matter of time before we found you out. Confess, and you will suffer less pain.”

I frowned, there was only one thing I know that has happened lately that she could be accusing me of.

A theft.

Of what, I don’t know, but she seems to be blaming me for it.

My heart sank.

“Ma’am, I’m sorry, I- I don’t think I did whatever you’re accusing me of.”

“Is that your final answer?”

I twisted the lid, “Yes ma’am.”

Then the buzz was gone, and the itch grew almost unbearable.

Her eyes began to glow and then her fingers stretched, turning into talons. Her jacket melted into large, leathery wings.

She turned into a fury!

Uh oh.

I flicked the lid off in one quick move, but before I could call the water, Mr. Brunner wheeled through the doorway of the gallery, holding a pen that positively sung with magic.

“What ho, Percy!” he shouted, and tossed the pen through the air.

Ms. Dodds lunged at me.

I dodged, snatching the ballpoint pen out of the air. I know this tone of magic.

The sword of the sea was in my hand.

Ms. Dodds spun towards me with a snarl and murder in her eyes, “Die honey!”

I went by the instincts that Triton had drilled into me, letting one hand flick out to send a water whip snapping around Ms. Dodds and yanking her to the side the other bringing the sword down right into her shoulder.

It passed clean through her body with a hiss.

She exploded into yellow powder, vaporized on the spot.

All that remained was a claw.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

I walked towards the entrance of the museum again, a buzz was itching at my senses, the same buzz that surrounded Mr. Brunner and Ms. Dodds. Only much louder and much more spread out.

The pen that was a sword that was a pen that was of the sea was clutched in my hand.

I was shaking.

That was the first monster I’d actually fought, the empousai from before doesn’t count.

Triton was going to be furious.

I paused before opening the doors, taking a moment to choke back the sob that wanted to break out.

I want to go home, I want Triton, I want my mom.

I hate this, I hate this, I hate this.

I closed my eyes and pulled the “princely” face on.

I can break down later, to Carl. He won’t judge.

I swallowed once more and took a step forward, opening the doors.

Grover was sitting by the fountain, still wet from me using the water to slow his fall.

Nancy Bobofit was standing soaked from her swim in the fountain, grumbling to her ‘friends’. When she saw me, she gave me an ugly grin.

“I hope Mrs. Kerr whipped your butt.”

I frowned, “Who?”

The buzz grew worse.

“Our teacher. Duh!”

I frowned, is this a spell? Because I killed Ms. Dodds they replaced her with a spell?

The buzz had settled across all the students, but it was still itching at me. I really wanted to cover my ears, it wasn’t quite a sound by it was extremely disconcerting.

I turned away from Nancy, I was too angry with her anyways.

If I stay near her I might try to recreate turning Carl from a guinea pig to a fish.

I focused on Grover, who sucks at lying and who didn’t have an irritating buzz about him.

“Where’s Ms. Dodds.”

He faltered, looking away.

“Who?”

I held back the urge to roll my eyes or scream or cry.

“Nevermind.”

I snatched up my bag and slipped the pen into it. It’s of the sea, and Mr. Brunner gave it to me willingly. If he wants it back, he can ask. Then he can answer my questions.

I sat down on the fountain and pulled out my lunch.

This year is a trainwreck.

[unikornu]

Page 6, Enterprise

(re-written)

As the night already fell upon Nuka Town the duo decided to delay the first trip till morning and give the new Overboss much needed sleep. But with the patio windows broken and exposing the whole area she just couldn’t relax. After turning around way too many times, side to side, she jumped out of bed pulling the knife from under the pillow and walked to the Porter’s room.

- Hey...listen. She looked from behind the wall to make sure she is not disturbing the raider and to her relief he wasn’t sleeping yet either, sitting at the table and tapping buttons on the terminal.

- Ye, Boss? He turned his curious eye to her.

- Do you mind swapping beds for few nights? I just...can’t sleep in the open like that. Makes me nervous. She approached him with crossed arms, looking at the him and then at terminal.

- Seriously? You prefer to sleep here, in my shithole? He shat down the terminal, screen blacking out.

- Yes. She sighted. - Fuckin, please?

- Okay okay, u don’t have to ask like that. Just don’t dig around my shiet, Boss. He stood up, grabbing his rifle and left towards the patio.

- Thanks. She whispered and waited till the she could hear the door closing behind him in the hallway before giving terminal another look. - Hm....he even knows how to use them, i wonder for what tho....

She couldn’t resist the temptation and sat down at the table, turning the screen back on. She looked over the panel, noticing some buttons with a small scratch on them and hacked herself in after few tries. Numerous messages showed up, old ones from Colter but also few from other leaders. The one on the top appeared coming straight from Mags the same day. Lucy spotted a pack of cigarettes opened next to her and snatched one. Upon lighting it she paused as the note started showing up lines, mentioning her and the vault.

- Ekhem. Gage grunted low, leaning on the wall, not precisely happy with her current occupation at his table, smoking his cigarettes.

- I took just one, i swear. She left the smoke in the ashtray and stood up from the table, turning off the screen.

- Nosey type, are you Boss? He smirked at her and walked to the table, pushing the button again and looking at what she was reading. - Look, Boss. We also need to know what we deal with, which is well, you. You don’t look like anyone else who walked here and with your....uhm posture. Of course folks got curious what’s the freaking deal with ya. He handed her the smoke back. - Since you took it already, might as well finish it.

- I have to be aware of my surroundings too Gage. Trust was a luxury for me, before the war. I mean....She scratched the back of her neck avoiding his look nor continuing onward.

- So Mags and her suspicions were right. You are from the fucking vault, hell from before the world went to shit. His eye opened wide, looking at her and waiting to share a bit more.

- World was shit even before, believe me. Now its just more...dirty and no one gives a damn bout politics since guns are answer to every problem. She pulled out her lighter and flickered a fire towards him as he took out a cigarette as well.

- And what was your position before, Boss? You mentioned you ran with some gang. He looked down at her, curiously.

- I was just a private tool of some important criminal figure back then. Gathering data...killing some people on a way but the pay was good and since justice proved to be blind and corrupted i found my place there, eventually. She shrugged her arms and finished the smoke, crashing it in the astray placed next to him on the table. - That’s all you need to know for now. What about you, Gage? What is it that you are trying to play behind my back and Colter’s before?

- What ya mean, Boss? He raised the eyebrow.

- Don’t play me a fool. I heard things, he didn’t want to be a leader, you talked him into it and when it longer suited you, you got rid of him. You want also to treat me like a puppet attached to your strings? To be thrown away later when i slip away? I know a lot about being in someone’s grip, ohh trust me. She squinted her eyes at him.

- Fuck, look. I’ve been in this raider shit for a long time but i went through a lot of crap too. People always pissed on my advices, trying to make the gangs something more than just bunch of drugged, stupid savages and in the end i was the one always ending up with a gun to my head. I want to survive just like everyone in this shit but i want to be smarter bout it, if ya know what i mean. He released a cloud of smoke her way, sighting.

- And how that approach goes with trusting each other in the end? She shook the smoke cloud away from her face.

- We don’t have to trust each other. We just need to do the job and keep our heads on the fuckin neck. And then count the caps, Boss. He crashed the cigarette in ashtray with his thumb.

- Sounds familiar...she whispered.

- Then it might be easier to do if it sounds so, Boss. Get ya rest, tomorrow we head out, at last. He snatched the pack of smokes from the table. - Also i’m takin it before you steal all of em. Lucy kept her word this time and went straight to bed as the raider disappeared in the patio.

----

- So where should we head out first? Lucy asked as she was strolling towards the exit, early morning with Gage by her side.

- It’s your call afte rall but i think, Bottling Plant would be the best first strike. They both fastened their steps once on disciples territory.

- Why? She asked.

- Mirelurks...if we let them nest there any longer their numbers will only fuckin grow. Gage handed her a pistol with a fairly long muzzle. - Also take it, you can’t go on everything here with just a freaking knife, Boss.

- Fair enough. She took a pistol and pushed it behind the belt.

As they were walking through the desert land, covered thickly in dry tall grass, surrounded by just old, silent music of the pre-war park Gage could feel a bit of tension in the air as they weren’t talking almost at all.

- I don’t like to talk much myself Boss but...that will soon feel awkward even for me. He pointed out.

She looked up at him and shook her head. - I just ain’t used with much company since...you know. And i would rather be focused for now that....

- That we don’t trust each other, yet. Okay, Boss.

As they arrived to the park the glow of the river almost blinded them, the blue quantum tone shining in the air, raising from the fluid flowing out of the tunnel.

- That’s gonna be..sticky, ugh. Lucy left the sound of disgust as they stepped into the cola river and headed inside the tunnel.

- I sure ain’t pushing a boat for that sweet ass of yours. She looked at him with her mouth half open but decided to just leave that comment behind.

- I have one more question Gage, before we go fishing for crabs. She stepped up on a small garbage lump mixed with mud, shaking her leg off the cola. - You have like hundred of raiders there, why only the two of us is taking care of it?

- Because they already took their part before, in taking the Nuka Town. I cannot decide which park will belong to whom, they hate me for now, i told ya and if you leave that decision to them...well, there will be half less raiders and hell of a more problems to fix. He explained brushing off some droplets that landed on his cheek.

Suddenly the lump started to move beneath Lucy and mirelurk raised from underneath it with her still trying to hold herself on top of it.

-Shit. Raider fed it a few bullets, more than he expected, in a face before its pincers would cut them both. Upon falling Lucy got thrown away to the river.

- Fuck, ughh. She appeared shortly, standing up all wet, her skin glowing from the concentration of quantum and hair sticking to her face. Gage couldn’t hide his smirk as they carefully moved onward. - Let’s leave questions for later, Boss eh? She agreed.

They were ripping through the mirelurks onward, Lucy swiftly approaching them, shoving the knife under their protective shells in a soft meaty structure, Gage face looking more and more annoyed from a guide voice and glow of nuka cola. Walking through the water was also more tiring for the legs so as they arrived to the staircase leading towards the generator room they didn’t hesitate to force open it. They got welcomed by something more dangerous than a pair of pincers clacking in their faces. A red bright beam of laser pushed them apart to the door frame as it welcomed them upon entering.

- Fuckin assaultron. Gage armor was hissing from the heat it caught from the laser, releasing a thin cloud of smoke into the air.

- No time for chit chat. Lucy didn’t hesitate with taking action, approaching fast the machine and shoving the blade into its eye. She jumped back as it started to spin around, waving its claws, reaching her wrist in the process and throwing her to the ground.  -Fuck, take it off me!

Gage didn’t hesitate either, shoving bullets at it on a way and kicking the robot off her. They bashed it together till it was no longer showing any signs of movement. - Thanks, Gage. She checked her lower arm for any wounds.

- Don’t mention it Boss, we are partners after all in that small fight of ours. She looked at him, her expression softened.  

- Lets see what’s down there and then clean the rest.

-----

The generator was pumping quantum so much they could barely look at it, bright, almost toxic for any human gaze. They stumbled upon a small camp, or at least what it looked like with remains of it.

- Gunners, again. It must be part of that patrol i heard about on a station. Lucy searched the bodies, finding some notes and ammunition, more advanced than what raiders currently had.

- There is more of them coming here? Gage asked.

- Yes, they wanted to come with the last train but i ruined their trip. She smiled under her nose and handed him some of the ammunition.

- Good call, Boss. We managed to push them back on some old bridge but since then they just duck there. Now i know why.

- They wait for reinforcements from outside, to push again. They nodded at each other and started heading back.

- We will take take of them before that happens. Fuckin gunners, always sitting like a goddamn pin under our asses. Gage growled softly, under his nose and looked at Lucy as she stopped at the terminal near the generator.

- Just give me a sec. I want to see what that button does. She leaned and tapped some buttons on the keyboard.

- Big red buttons never do anything good, Boss. Gage joked and watched her working.

- This one indeed might not to anything good, but only for the rest out there. She pushed the button with her fist, nearby metallic door forcefully opened with an impact revealing a red-white massive set of power armor.

- Holy shit. Gage whistled, almost tempted to jump right in and kick some ass.

- Cmon, get in. It looks like it still has some power. Lucy jumped to see if the core spot was still filled with something. Gage grinned at her idea, opening the structure and hoping right in. - Now let’s crack us some seafood, Boss.

-----

Gage ran and slammed the door open along with a mirelurk, leading to the outside parking of the building. As Lucy was trying to catch up with him the signal appeared on her pipboy and a message. It was Institute with their sudden directions in the current place.

She leaned on her knees to catch a breath as she finally caught up with Gage outside. - Go check the upstairs, i will make sure there are no more eggs around that pond and make sure the queen never arrived here.

- Alright, Boss, just be careful. Gage nodded and headed up, stomping heavily onto the metallic structure of the bridge. As Lucy made sure he is out the sight she slam kicked some eggs laying around the water, stepping slowly in, with her pipboy stretched forward, weird red beam of light seemed to scan the surface, screen showing a progress bar. As it finished she stepped out in a rush, still not sure if its fully safe but after a few seconds another confirmation message poped up, with directions for the reward drop spot. - That was easy. She smiled and ran back up to join Gage and give him half the news.

- Porter was laughing, stomping onto the big lizard body, smashing it into a paste in a process. He did enjoy his time in a suit, indeed.

- We are lucky, there is no queen. Was....that last of them? She pointed at the mix of scales and guts splattered around, raising her brow.

- Looks like it Boss. Now for the last part of this job. He stepped out of the power armor and handed her three pieces of rough looking cloth pieces. - This is your decision and only your Boss to whom you give that territory.  

- A flag? Really? That’s what’s gonna keep em away from beating each other for it? She looked over them, symbols of each painted in a decent, artistic manner.

- Surprising i know, but it will. They are still simple fuckers so these rules works for their dumbass heads. He pointed towards the tall pole. - Pick one and show them we mean business this time, get things moving at last. He patted her back as she turned away.

Lucy walked towards the pole, shuffling the flags in her hands and trying to decide on one. As the Operators showed the most promise to her and Lizzie gave her a hand on a gear she chose them as the first gang to get the hands on fresh piece of land. She attached the cloth to the rope and pulled it vigorously, Gage was smiling in the back.

- Done. That should turn away all these doubtful looks. At least from the Mags boys, and there still might be some caps around, its a fuckin factory after all. She handed him the rest two flags back and looked at the armor. - Does it still have some power to take it back with us?

- Not much but it should make it to the Fizztop. Gage walked up to her, his eye gazing on her in a calm manner. - Good job, Boss. I can’t believe we actually fuckin doin it.

- You did most the fighting for now Gage. She looked up at him.

- But you filled the missing cogwheel we needed here, to get us moving. Hope ya wanna keep it up like that, Boss. It looked almost weird seeing a soft smile appearing on this rough face of his, showing up a feeling of missing promise he wanted so much to deliver.

- Since i didn’t trip on your leg to my “accidental” death yet i guess we are good. She joked and smiled back at him for a second and looked away towards the power armor. - Now how about you give me ride back?    

[mauve-n-arcadia]

The Pining of the Void: Chapter 1 The Crystal mines

By Mauve & Arcadia

Deep in a Cave was not Where Glush preferred to be. It was damp and muddy, and he really didn’t care for how much washing it took to get the sweat and dirt out of his jumpsuit after a long day in the mine. He placed a chisel in between the rock and the crystal jutting out of it. The crystal shone a yellow light over his tools, thankfully making it very clear where Glush should strike, and he brought his hammer down on the chisel.

The rock was shunted down a bit and then sloughed off the crystal, letting more yellow light pour into the cave. Glush took off his left glove and wiped the sweat off his brow as he stood up and appraised his work. A good chunk of crystal about the size of his thigh was jutting out of the wall, and it looked like if he wiggled it a little he might be able to pull it free.

“How are you doing over here, Glush?” Glush looked over his shoulder to see the white light of a miner's helmet peeking out from behind him, then foreman Shadbak emerged from the depths of the cave.

Glush made a sound of annoyance, he was immersed in his repetitive motion and beat of his work. He gestured towards the rock as if saying, ‘it was going well till you interrupted’.

Shadbak gleaned the meaning behind the gestures and grunts.

“If you use your axe as a pivot from the bottom that should pop right out.”

Glush stared at the crystal appraisingly, he didn’t mind bashing it till the rock came out, but he wasn’t opposed to making his work easier. 

He placed his chisel towards the bottom of the crystal, and it did indeed pop out with minimal effort.

Glush smiled at Shabak and then tossed the Crystal at her. Without missing a beat, she took a large bag off her hip and pulled it open. The Crystal disappeared into the bag with a swish.

“Good work, Think it’s about time we call it a night. We've tapped most of the big veins of spell crystal here, and we ought to give it a chance to regenerate.”

Glush smiled broadly and sighed in relief.

“You look like you could use the fresh air too!” Shadback added as the two of them started their way out of the cave. Glush thought that he could also use a nice long wash, and a cold drink. 

As they crawled through bottlenecks and hoisted themselves up steep walls, Glush noticed that the rest of the miners were nowhere to be seen. He did have a habit for being the one to wander furthest into any given mine, weather he was directed to or not. It just seemed like all the best spell stones were in the deepest caves.

Glush wasn’t sure how he ever ended up with such odd talents, but it was just a fact of life for him.

Finally, at the mouth of the cave, Glush Stretched his arms as far above him as he could, and took in the sunset as it dipped below the horizon far to his other side. The yellow and orange hues were only interrupted by a light smear of clouds and Tall grass that went on as far as he could see.

It was a treat to see the untamed wild these days. It almost seemed like all of the land was taken up by some warlord or other. Though he knew that just behind him, atop the plateau stood Belladonna's west fortress, thakfully it was comfortably out of sight.

---

The next day Glush woke up sluggishly. He rolled out of his cot and hit the ground with a loud thud. He made his way through a small labyrinth of cots to get to the outside of the tent and approached the breakfast pot. 

Today’s breakfast was a rather grey gruel, but Glush ate it all the same. The excuse for the poor breakfasts was that they hadn’t been meeting the quota, so the company couldn’t afford the proper meals. Glush knew it was more of a punishment.

Shabak of course, was already seated and eating. She was an early riser. Glush made his way to the pot, and ladled out some grey for himself in order to join her. 

They ate in companionable silence. Every time Shabak opened her mouth to make small talk, Glush would spoon more gruel into his own mouth to avoid answering. She still found occasion to prattle on.

“Your numbers up yesterday, but everyone else's were down….we may need to move on from this location soon, or dig new tunnels.”

Glush fought a glob of slop down his throat, and cleared it to speak. His first attempt came out as a crackling squeak, then he tried again. 

“Dig more and  fort fall down into land.” Glush jammed another spoonful of the muddy grey in his mouth so he had an excuse to stop speaking again.

“Hah! I’d love to see the warlords fort sink into the earth as much as anyone, afraid that even though there are a considerable amount of tunnels in the plateau, it is nowhere near collapsing, which even if it’s good for Belladonna, it’s also good for us!”

Glush grunted, unconvinced. He was at least half sure that his deathbed would be under a ton of rocks, and probably one of the warlord’s shoddy fortresses one of these days. There wasn’t much he could do about it except hope it didn’t happen though. Spell crystal mining was about the only job that he could get.

Well, it was the only job that best fit him, He was qualified for it, it made him enough money to get by and buy the odd instrument here and there, and he didn’t have to talk to anyone. It was pretty absurd how many jobs required you to speak. That was never something Glush was very good at though.

In fact, Shadbak was probably the only person Glush had spoken more than a brief introduction to in years, and that was only because she would talk to him all the time.

He didn’t mind it much. Shadbak knew better than to expect a verbal response for the most part, but after they had been working together for about a year, she was too curious to not ask questions.

Speaking of which, she had that glint in her eye that meant she was probably about to ask him something. Glush put his spoon down and braced himself. 

“So why the piccolo? You’ve been saving up for a nice instrument as long as I known you and you buy that tiny thing? It’s not even made for Orc hands.” she held up her own hands showing her broad palms, regular sized for an orc lady, but absolutely monstrous compared to human hands that such delicate instruments were made for.

Glush huffed. Questions about why he does what he does were the worst, because they were hard to answer, and when he did, Shadbak was rarely ever satisfied with his response. 

Glush didn’t know how to articulate the answer she wanted. The piccolo just felt right, and sounded nice.

“Pick - low, not that small…” Glush struggled to find the words, “Sound nice. Like… hmm.” Shadbak was still giving him an expectant look, and he couldn’t think of any better words, So Glush fished the tiny instrument out from the inner pocket of his dust covered vest and began to play.

His large fingertips did not falter on the tiny machinations of the piccolo and for the brief moments he played he felt free. The notes danced in the air and flew from his lungs like a flock of birds out of a tree. 

When he finished he stored the piccolo back carefully and looked at Shadbak, her eyes looked a little glazed over.

“Okay, I guess that’s a good enough reason.” She said. “You know with talent like that, you could easily make it as a minstrel. Nobles would pay fine for your little song twig.” Glush chortled and stuffed his mouth, making it clear he was not going to say anything else.

Shadbak looked thoughtfuly at Glush. “I guess it might be difficult since the nobles don’t care much for Orcs.” 

Glush nodded, giving her a look like ‘duh.’

She got up and gathered her dishes, patting glush on the back as she walked by. “Their loss, we get to have the best flutist this side of Yshvid, and we’re just humble miners!”

Glush shortly followed her and got ready to start his day in the mines.

---

As he began to fall underneath the shadows of the plateau his ears perked to the sound of hoofbeats approaching rapidly. 

An armoured figure appeared atop a grey warhorse. 

They pointed menacingly. “You there” they snarled. “Where is the foreman”

Glush blinked a few times at the regalia of the knight and their steed. They were covered in checkered purple and green, and the hanging fabrics were decorated with purple bells. The whole display was a little ridiculous, as was the usual sensibilities of nobility.

Glush though, then he shrugged at the knight's question. He really didn’t know where she went after breakfast. She could be in her tent, in the mine, wherever she damn well pleased really.

Glush couldn’t see the Knight lips curl underneath their helmet, but he could certainly hear the acid tone in their voice.

“Well perhaps you should find him” and they tapped the insignia on their shield, a purple flower.

Glush turned without acknowledging their request and walked into the mines. He didn’t feel like dealing with nobility right now, and though the caves were never comfortable, their silence and isolation was welcome.

Well, relative isolation. The other miners kept to themselves, simply nodding and smiling at glush as he passed by. That wasn’t bad though, as long as nobody tried to talk to him, he actually enjoyed company.

He saw Shadbak sizing up a fresh outcropping of spell crystal. The vein was too small yesterday to really do anything about, with crystals smaller than a fist, but overnight it had grown drastically to the size of the crystal he had finished with yesterday.

She looked over her shoulder to see who was shuffling up behind her and smiled at Glush.

“Got a real good one right here, Not sure if we should take it though. Spell stone that grows this fast may be part of a node.” She felt her hand along the shining surface of the spell crystal. Glush didn’t understand much about the mechanics of magic, but he knew that if this vein was part of a ‘node’ it would be better left alone.

“Hmm. well, don’t really have enough time to figure it out, you and I gotta pick up the slack for the rest of the team, I’m tired of gruel for every meal!” She motioned for Glush to follow, and they both descended deeper into the cavern.

---

Glush and Shadbak fell into a familiar rhythm, She would guide him to the best spell crystals, tell him the most efficient way to pry it from the walls, He would make a few deft whacks, and toss the Rough gemstones into Shadbak’s bag. Time passed easily this way, and Glush had almost completely forgotten there was a knight waiting outside for the forman.

He held the spell crystal he just mined and paused, breaking their rhythm.

“What is it?” Shadbak asked. 

“Knight, outside.”Glush said.

“Huh?” Shadbak’s face quickly went from one of confusion, to one of sudden and urgent realization. “You left a KNIGHT waiting outside this whole time?”

Glush shrugged.

“UGH, you are just awful sometimes.” She didn’t really sound serious, but it was clear she was annoyed.

Shadbak rushed out without another word. So Glush just...kept working. Without Shadbak guiding him, he found himself venturing deeper and deeper into the system. But there wasn’t much to be gleaned. Glush recognized all these tunnels from the many days spent in them before. 

He was working on a rather stubborn crystal. Losing himself in the rhythmic clunk, clunk, clunk, of his axe, when he barely was able to make out the gathering bells at the front of the mine.

He gave the crystal a few last hurried clunks before it popped out, then gathered his meager findings in his arms to be deposited, and meandered topside. 

Shadbak was already giving the others the news. 

“We will be moving west, we’ll need to be packed up first thing in the morning” She announced.

Glush left his pile with the others for Shadbak to collect. 

“But I don’t want to get farther away from my family's village!” One of the Orcs protested. Glush couldn’t remember his name.

“Then don’t come!” Shadbak exclaimed. It looked like she was getting frustrated with the pushback. They all knew we’d have to move on from this mine eventually.

“We’ll be meeting up with another mining company, so there will be plenty of workers to go around. AND, they are paying us 15% more per crystal at this location!”

The crowd murmured at that. Goodbye gruel, hello stew.

“I need everyone up and packing by 7am.” And that was the last of the speech. She found Glush at the edge of the group and locked eyes with him. The harshness in her face eased into more of a scolding look. Glush figured that maybe he was actually supposed to follow Shadbak out, and he pulled nervously at his collar as she approached.

“You hear all that?” Glush shrugged and nodded yes at the same time. He only heard the tail end of her announcement, but he got the important bit. Shadbak sighed. “Look, next time Belladonna sends a knight to our camp, don’t just blow him off. We’re lucky this was just about a job she needs us for.”

Glush shrugged again and smiled.

“Don’t pull that innocent bullshit on me, Glush! Now get your green ass in gear and get ready to go!”

---

[loretranscripts]

Lore Episode 5: Under Construction (Transcript) - 4th May 2015

tw: nothing I can think of! This one’s a nice one (but ask if you think anything should be tagged)

Disclaimer: This transcript is entirely non-profit and fan-made. All credit for this content goes to Aaron Mahnke, creator of Lore podcast. It is by a fan, for fans, and meant to make the content of the podcast more accessible to all. Also, there may be mistakes, despite rigorous re-reading on my part. Feel free to point them out, but please be nice!

On the south-west corner of Iceland, just to the south of the city of Reykjavik, is a small peninsula that juts out into the cold waters of the north Atlantic. It’s known as the Álftanes peninsula, and although few people live there, the local government recently decided to connect this small stretch of land to the town of Garðabær, a suburb of Reykjavik. Last year, however, construction on the new road was brought to a halt. Standing in their way was a massive rock, 12ft high and weighing an estimated 70 tons. According to highway department employee Petur Matthiasson, the rock has presented an unusual challenge to his department’s construction project. Now, you have to understand something about Iceland. Much of the region is a vast expanse of sparse grass and large volcanic rock formations. The ground literally boils with hot water at springs and geysers, and the sky seems to be eternally grey and cloudy. So, it’s important to recognise that there are hundreds, maybe thousands of these volcanic stones along the construction route. So, what could possibly be so important about this one, particular stone? Why would the highway department go to such lengths, even covering the expense of hiring a crane, just to move the stone to a safer location? The stone, they say, is inhabited. It is, as it has been for many long centuries, home to the Huldufólk- the “hidden people”. They are the size and shape of humans and live in much the same way that we do, except, of course, they’re invisible. I’m Aaron Mahnke, and this is Lore.

In the late 1930s, another road construction project in the same area of Iceland was planned to cut straight through a hill known as Alfholl. From the beginning though, the project was met with challenges. First, the money for the project simply ran out, and when funding resumed a decade later, construction encountered even more problems. The machines that were used to cut through the hill started to break at an unusual rate. Tools were damaged and lost. In the end, the road was simply built around the hill to avoid the digging altogether. When the road was due for updating in the 1980s, the notion of demolishing the hill was, again, brought up, and this time more machinery was brought in to drill through the actual hill. After the first drill broke, another was brought in, but it too stopped working. After that the workers themselves even refused to bring any of their own tools near the hill out of fear that they would be lost or broken by the Huldufólk who guard the place. Iceland is a culture that is teaming with references to this invisible society of human-like creatures. In a recent survey, more than half the people in the country (54%, in fact) said that they believed in the existence of these creatures. But who are the Huldufólk?

According to one Icelandic folk tale, the hidden people can be traced back to Adam and Eve. According to the legend, Eve had a number of children who she hid from God. But God, being omniscient and aware of everything that happens, found them anyway. In the story, God declared that what man hides from God, God will hide from man. As a result, these children of Adam and Eve vanished from sight and have lived alongside humans ever since, hidden from our eyes. Wherever they came from, Iceland is apparently filled with them. They are described as being the same size as humans, usually clad in 19th century Icelandic clothing, which is often described as being green and simple. The people of Iceland have another term for these creatures, though. They don’t use it as often as Huldufólk, because they feel it’s not as respectful to the hidden people, but it’s a word we all know, and its history and meaning run very deep. They call them… elves.

When we think of elves, most of us imagine the little people who help Santa Claus in his workshop at the North Pole. We picture tiny people with pointed ears who wear tall, pointed hats. But that vision of elves is actually new, dating back only to Victorian Era fairy tales, when French stories of fairies were mixed and confused with more ancient tales of elves from the Celtic, Germanic and Scandinavian peoples. The oldest records of something resembling elves are from Anglo-Saxon England and medieval Iceland, though there are some records that exist from Germany as well, and the characteristics are consistent across the continents. Elves were described as human-like; that they were once divine creatures of some unknown origin, and that they were very, very dangerous. In Norse Mythology elves were mainly thought of as females who lived in the hills and mounds of stone. The Swedish elves were said to be beautiful girls who lived in the forest with their king, and Scandinavian folklore describes them as fair-haired, dressed in white, and dangerous when offended. In fact, in many folk tales elves were given the role of the disease spirits. An elf could inflict horrible skin rashes on the one who offended them, and the term was called an “elven blow”. The only way to calm and satisfy them was to actually visit their homes, often a large pile of stones or a large stone in the woods, and leave them an offering of food. Elves, you see, were dangerous.

At first, elves were simply thought of as mischievous pranksters. Anything odd that happened during a person’s day could be blamed on elves. A tangle in a person’s hair was called an elf-lock, and birth marks were referred to as elf-marks. Elves had a darker side, however. Much like their cultural counterparts in other countries such as hobs, leprechauns, hob-goblins and trolls, elves were known to be highly dangerous. A deeply common thread through all cultures is how easy it is to offend them, and how terrible the consequences might be if that happened. One such tale was that of the “changeling”. According to legend, elves would invade the home of new parents and swap out their infant child for a small elf. Now, while the human baby would be wonderfully cared for back in the home of the elves, the surrogate that was left behind – the “changeling”, it was called – would be fussy and unhappy. In Iceland, there are tales of Huldufólk who kidnapped adults, who are then taken back to the hills to work for the hidden people. In their place, the Huldufólkleave emotionless, hollow copies of the ones they take. It was said that if someone you knew underwent a severe personality change, becoming depressed or listless, it was because they had been replaced by the elves. It was also believed that elves could enter the dreams of a sleeping person and cause nightmares to happen. In fact, the German word for nightmare is alpdrücken, which literally means “elf pressure”. You see, if it was horrible, unexplainable or tragic, there was always one easy explanation that dominated medieval minds: blame it on the elves.

But what if these were more than just folktales? If so, that might explain the incredibly similar stories that exist among the native tribes of the American north-east. In 2011, a non-profit housing developer in the United States began the final stages of their plan to build a $19 million, 120 unit construction project known as “The Villages”. Everything about it looked promising. It would generate roughly $1.5 million in tax revenue for the town of Montville, Connecticut, it would create over 100 construction-related jobs, and once completed, would actually provide affordable housing for scores of local families. Now, because the “Villages” project was a non-profit endeavour, the development company applied for federal funding to offset their costs. As a requirement for the funding process, the developer was required to complete an archaeological survey of the 12.2  acre parcel of land, and that’s when they hit a snag.

The proposed building site, it turns out, encroached on Mohican tribe property. The Mohican people were an offshoot of the Pequot tribe, originating in 17thcentury Connecticut. They had deep routes in the area, and naturally parts of their historic past are still present today. Among the sensitive archaeological sites that the Mohican tribe claimed were at risk were Fort Shantok, Moshup’s Rock, and Mohican Hill. None of those historic sites are unusual in any way, but when the tribal historic preservation officer for the Mohicans presented their case to the Federal Housing and Urban Development Department, there was one complaint that stood out among the others. Creatures, they claimed, lived inside Mohican Hill. The construction project threatened their lives, and unless it was stopped, the “little people”, as they called them, would disappear, leaving the tribe unprotected from outsiders. The tribe has long believed in the existence of creatures who they call Makiawisug - the “little people”. The stone piles on top of Mohican Hill were said to have been built by them long ago, and served as protection from the outside world. These Makiawisug have remained inside the hill ever since, guarding the stones and protecting the tribe. These were powerful creatures that could protect and preserve the tribe, but if ignored or treated poorly, could also bring great harm and chaos, and so naturally the Mohican people became very good at managing their relationship with them.

One of the most prominent Mohican tribe members of the last century was a woman named Gladys Tantaquidgeon, who passed away in 2005 at the age of 106. She was a 10th generation descendant of the Mohican chief Uncas, a prominent colonial era leader, and was also a tribal medicine woman. Her role included maintaining her tribe’s knowledge of the Makiawisug, and how to interact with them. According to Tantaquidgeon, there were even four non-negotiable laws for dealing with the “little people”. First, serve and protect their leader and matriarchal deity, Granny Squannit. Second, never speak to them in the summer months, when they’re the most active. Third, never stare directly at one, or else the creature would become invisible and steal your belongings. And finally, leave them offerings from time to time. And so, to this day, the Mohican tribe continues to make offerings to these creatures and hopes that they will continue their role as protectors and guardians of the tribe. It is traditional to leave them an offering of cornmeal and berries, and sometimes even meat. Sound familiar?

The vast majority of people in the world don’t really believe in the existence of elves or hidden people living in the bones of the earth. One explanation as to why Iceland is different, though, actually has to do with the Vikings. You see, when they conquered a city, the Vikings had real life enemies to focus their hatred on. When they settled Iceland, however, no one else was there to be defeated. Perhaps the Huldufólk provided the excuse that the Vikings needed to feel like conquerors in a land with no native inhabitants. Other scholars believe that elves represent our connection to the earth of old. They are sort of a primitive environmentalism, a reminder of the way life used to be before urban sprawl and manufacturing left its mark on our world. Whatever the reason, our ancestors firmly believed in these other-worldly beings who could bless or curse them at will. Elves served as an excuse for the unexplained; as solid ground when nothing else seemed to make sense. We might laugh it off from our modern point of view today, but centuries ago, elves literally gave people an opportunity to hope, or a reason to be afraid.

And remember Petur Matthiasson, the highway department employee in Reykjavik, Iceland? He’s made it very clear to journalists that he doesn’t believe in elves, but that doesn’t stop him from telling an odd story to those who ask. Apparently, his family came from the northern side of Iceland long ago. There, in the wild north country, the family claimed to have had a protective elf who brought good fortune to them. When they moved south, the family elf remained behind. Petur recalled going on a camping trip in the north some years ago. Before he left, his father asked him, while he was there, to go and pay his respects to the elf and to thank her for the help she had given his family. Not being one to believe in the old stories, Petur claims he forgot. The next day, however, despite an overcast sky and wet drizzle, he woke up sore and blistered by what he described as something like a sunburn. In fact, he could barely stand. Did Petur experience some random, mysterious dermatological episode, or was he the victim of an elven blow from an angry family patron. Like his ancestors, the easiest explanation might just be the most otherworldly.

Lore is a biweekly podcast and was produced by me, Aaron Mahnke. The music in this episode was written by Dexter Britain – be sure to check him out on Soundcloud. Lore is now on Patreon! For as little as $1 each month, you can help Lore become a self-sufficient podcast. There are some fantastic rewards for those who do, so visit lorepodcast.com/support to learn more. And if you enjoy scary stories, I happen to write them. You can find a full list of my supernatural thrillers, available in paperback and ebook format, at aaronmahnke.com/novels. Thanks for listening.

Notes

1. This theory about Vikings needing victims seems a bit off, given that there is plenty of evidence for peaceful interactions between the Vikings and other groups. Also, the first settlers were not “Vikings” as such, who were largely displaced wonderers, but were in fact settled men of power in Norway most likely. Their motivation isn’t known, but most likely had more to do with a desire for more power and independent control, and less to do with conquering.

[dndbackstories]

Stonesong: a prehistoric campaign setting outline.

Everyone knows the world of dragons and castles. Of danger in dungeons. Of steel ringing and the peace of a village.

But there is a time before the first forge was lit. Before the first homestead was built. Before the races had even met one another since the splitting world.

Unlike many other items you will find on this blog, this is not a back story. I hope this will inspire others to run a prehistoric campaign, because the opportunity it presents in opening your world up. It explores your world as it likely has never been seen before.

The first step will be organising your players. Since this setting is so different, it is unlikely your characters will be a hodgepodge of different races. Additionally, discourage arcane magics. Think of what magical aptitude could be found in your world. Maybe sorcerers, druids, and clerics are ok, but bards, wizards, and warlocks are out. Remember the primitive nature of your setting, and keep in mind that magic will be viewed with superstition, awe, and fear. Skills too will need some adjustment: eliminate arcane, and the tool proficiencies, replace them with more advanced nature, and survival checks.

If you do not know a lot about survival, look at survival blogs. Google hunting and trapping. Learn what it takes to create a tool or weapon. When your characters make or find a weapon, think carefully about the race that made the weapon: environment, resources, and other uses. I.E. Dwarves would probably not use a boomerang, and Elves have access to many wood and amber resources, but little metal or stone.

How will any given race react to meeting another race? Are your elves pure, and magical? Or do they take after their Fae idols and kidnap children? Are your races going to go around making halflings everywhere they go? Additionally different races may be at different stages of development, so your gnomes look down on the barbaric humans? Are they teachers? Or do they follow the prime directive? Even within races, you have different tribes and factions. Different gods.

The game itself will also be different. Your characters do not have access to those dried rations yo get them through long journeys without having to worry about hunting and gathering. Instead, you should absolutely enjoy some hunting and gathering missions in place of long dungeons. Think of what it takes to track or trap a stag. The tracks in the snow, broken branches, trails and flattened grasses all tell of the animals location. Throw in a few details like a melted patch, or a burned tree. Gently hint there may be a magical beast around. What lurks in the waters when your dwarf party gathers snails from the underlake? The deep snow can shift as your orcs dig for treenuts. You should dig through your monster manual and choose enemies based on region, or let Xanathar do it for you.

Finally, some suggestions for weapons, armor, tools and traps.

An additional rule for weapons and armor.

Crude: weapons or armor that may break. These are easy items to find, like stones, sticks, bones, ice, and so on. Give an item hit points at creation or finding. When it inflicts or takes that much damage, it breaks and is no longer usable in that form. (Long stick might become heavy stick or just stick)

Treated: these weapons are sturdier, and do not break as easily. But it has more material cost and time.

You can use these to replace items in the phb. These items can also be made of bone, shell, coral, wood, ice, anything you think your players may have access too. Feel free to add any prehistoric weapon or armor, There are literally hundreds.

Weapons

Rock

Sharp rock

Heavy rock

Stick

Sharp stick

Heavy stick

Club

Stick with sharp (rocks, teeth, amber, shell pieces, chitin etc.)

Heavy stick with sharp

Long stick

Atlatl

Bow and arrow

Bone hoe

Small stick with heavy rock on it.

Armor:

Hide

Wood

Bone

Fur

Chitin

Shell

Traps:

Snare

Counterweight

Pit fall

Bow/dart trap

Glue

Weight drop

There are many other traps, weapons and armors, but they are at your disposal, and you have ideas of your own that will better suit your worlds.

I hope you have enjoyed this guide. I will likely expand upon it in the coming months as I playtest, balance, and expose it to a larger playerbase. Please let me know your experience if you use it. I would love to know what stories your minds can create.

[friendsof3villages]

Play Diary Part 1 (Opening, Up to Spr. 14, Y1)

To sorta kinda revive this blog, start playing the game again from the start, and get in some much needed writing practice, I decided to finally begin a female file on the English version. I’ll be writing a play diary entries and also some entries of random helpful (I hope!) tidbits and mini columns from the Japanese Famitsu guide. 

I decided to impose a few rules on myself for this time around:

Veteran mode! Sure, I’m using the Miracle trait, which gives me a very unfair advantage, but... Let’s drain that stamina and that money, mmmkay? 

No preconceived ideas about whom to marry! None of that. No leaning toward one character over another sorry Yuzuki and Ludus. 

Go easy on the gifts. I want my character to cultivate friendships based on daily conversation, festival participation, and the occasional gift.

Can you believe that this’ll be my...4th(?) time going through the game, and I’ve never made a pet a Furmiliar? And I have still never once played online?! I used to do online co-op frequently in the two previous games, but lately I’ve developed a weird aversion to doing any kind of online competition or co-op... I need to do BOTH those things this time around.

With all that said, here’s my protagonist:

(Man, I miss Miiverse...)

I gave her the name of and based her appearance on my mental depiction of what I wanted my MC to look like in my latest playthrough of Mystic Messenger. Lately I’ve had this weird thing about naming my characters after fruit, pastries, flowers, gemstones, or a combination of two of the previously listed things. I do this in Fire Emblem Heroes, too. (And now you know the only two mobile games I play, bahaha.)

Hence, we have Berry, who should have strawberry-colored hair, so...well, close enough.

I had to consult the calendar in my game guide to come up with a birthday that wouldn't conflict with a festival or another's birthday. I wanna be unique! (The best calendar is on pages 334 and 335, by the way.) I finally decided upon Winter 7. (And yes, playing the English version while relying on a Japanese guidebook could be interesting.)

I’ve noticed this before but I don’t think I’ve mentioned it... While we don’t see Marlena’s face in the flashback, she appears to look exactly the same now as she did back then! She’s aged very gracefully.

Anyway, you know the drill: the family’s moving, Berry wants instead to move out and start her own farm, Daryl doesn’t think she can do it, blah blah. And, clearly, Berry wins the argument, hehe.

Don’t worry, Dad; it’s not like I’ve never played this game before. I’m a VETERAN, y’know. Starting with the amount of money I have will be a huge help. Thanks for the awesome allowance! (14.6 million gold, aww yeah!)

So off Berry goes, she meets Uncle Frank, eats pizza with him...

Ooh, I love that nice long stamina bar...

The next day we’re introduced to Westown and its residents. Here’s a lovely screenshot from a previous playthrough...

Westown is lucky that it has a reliable water source; a lot of the western US (on which Westown is clearly based) isn't so lucky. There are a lot of dams and reservoirs to collect water to make sure that there will be enough for humans and livestock. (I could also go into a tangent about how the buffalo in this game is technically an Asian water buffalo and not the very different-looking American buffalo (bison) native to North America, but, hey. I won’t. Not this time anyway, haha. It’s  a fictional world, so they’re allowed a lot of slack.)

Hello, Wayne! I’m genuinely impressed that he remembers Berry’s name just from his conversations about her with Frank. And, yeah, he gets a slight head start in the affection dept., as he’s the first bachelor we meet. But since Ford will come along in a couple of days, he doesn’t get much of an advantage.

Also, have I ever mentioned how much I love Lisette’s design? It reminds me of traditional Mexican dress. She’s just missing a rebozo (shawl), and one with a delicate flower pattern woven or embroidered into it would perfectly suit her.

Finally, the time came to name my farm. I was sleepy and giddy and ended up calling it...

Yup, it’s not just any farm. It’s THE farm. Heh heh.

Thanks for telling me that's a bed, uncle. I would have never figured out on my own that the wooden frame with a mattress, blanket (that looks stitched together from a number of pillowslips or something) and pillow is a bed. So, thanks.

Spring 3, Year 1

FINALLY, the opening and tutorial were over so I could at last play the game! 

Here’s what I did on my very first day: planted the crops Uncle Frank gave me and bought some more seeds:

Only 5 bags of radish seeds, uncle? Oh well, I’ve got more than enough money to buy more.

I chopped down a whole tree:

That took forever.

And managed to max out Westown’s E status. On the first day. Niiiiiiiice. 

I also expanded my bag (twice), bought and planted grass seeds, bought spicy fodder and chicken feed, plus treats and the tools I need for the animals,and then bought a chicken (Banana) and a cow (Kale). I now gather eggs from Banana and milk Kale every day. Make of that what you will.

Spring 4-14, Year 1

I’m not going to ship much, at least not yet. I’ve shipped 10 radishes as a requirement to raise Westown to D rank. Everything else has gone into storage. I’ve also met Berry’s second potential future husband: Ford.

I was able to purchase a fishing rod, so now I spend a lot of time fishing. All my crops, milk, eggs, fish, and stuff I’ve foraged are stowed safely away in storage for when/if I need them. I love hoarding.

So, my next entry will probably be my introduction to Lulukoko and the rest of Spring!

[violabozzo]

Interviewing nature: how they feel about humans

Interviewer: How do you feel by the way humans have treated you in the past?

Tree: It is fundamentally an interesting question. I am supposedly the ally of men, yet I was not shown much respect. You see, I am a powerful individual. I have the power of cleaning the air and making it breathable. I have the power of fostering many different species. I am beautiful and can grow fruits, vegetables and flowers. I am fundamental to the survival of men, and yet I have been exploited all throughout my life. Humans understood immediately my powers, starting by burning me. I have been used as a weapon to kill. I have been cut and transformed to make houses. I have been reshaped to make paper. I have been used for all sorts of purposes. We are planted and killed continuously, it's a vicious cycle that seems to never end. Despite them knowing how important we are, many humans just keep killing us to make themselves profit.

Interviewer: How are humans treating you now?

Tree: Well many humans are still exploiting us. However, slowly some humans are understanding the gravity of the situation by protesting and changing their lifestyle to protect us. We want to be part of human's life but we deserve respect. We do allow some to be used to help them survive but some also deserve to flourish and grow on their own. We are so good to humans, not just as a tool to create things, but also mentally being around us will make you feel better. Our colours should fascinate you. Our food should make you full. Our smell should intrigue you. We should be everywhere. Many more trees should be planted in cities. We make life more beautiful. So please next time you build a city or consume something, think about us too. Well technically think about your well being, because we are here to make you feel better.

Interviewer: What do you think Grass? Do you agree?

Grass: I agree with everything that was said. We as grass love to be covering all spaces! We love to be walked on, runned on and played on! Unfortunately we keep being cut and touched and we barely see any kids playing with us anymore. We are great for kids, if they fall they don't hurt themselves that much and we have plenty of small and intriguing creatures to surprise them with! We love anyone in general, even dogs are great! They are so cute when they run and fetch for their ball. We love picnics! What we don't love about people when they do picnics is leaving us all the trash. It's disgusting and damaging!

Interviewer: What about you small plant in the plot?

Plant: Well I agree too with what was said. I love humans. I love when they care for me and make me grow, flourish and nourish me. I have met countless people that have treated me like a queen. Some even allow me to listen to their music or make music myself with my vibrations! It is lots of fun being a plant in all kinds of gardens. Community gardens are great because you have the chance to talk to everybody. A private garden is great too because me and my gardener have built a special bond. I love when they get all excited about me growing even just a little bit. What us plants we don't love? well simply not be treated well. In some factories we are thrown in the trash and killed if not perfect or if our babies are not perfect. They are so cruel. They use all sorts of products like pesticides, to keep us perfect and intact but it's really damaging. We are sold but thrown away. We are used as decoration but not cared for. We just want some love or if not no attention at all. We are all able to care for ourselves on our own. Nature is all over the place and we are all connected to each other.